


Counting Stars

by aewgliriel



Series: Waiting For A Star To Fall [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Legacy Era - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Post-Divorce, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 39,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5816338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aewgliriel/pseuds/aewgliriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Relationships are not easy. Sequel to "Yellow". A series of vignettes inspired by prompts. Takes place after "Apocalypse" and "Crucible".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cry

He's checking his messages one last time before bed, already up way too late from meetings. Jaina Fel has been absent from the last three council meetings, and he's worried. When he sees a communication from Han Solo, marked "urgent", Kyp forgets all thoughts of sleep.  
  
There isn't much to it, just that the family is on Hapes and Kyp is needed there as fast as he can manage. It's already a few hours old. He's got his boots on before he's even realized he's out of the chair.  
  
It's 0300 as he shoots a message to Luke that he's leaving and tosses his hastily-packed flightbag into the cockpit of his StealthX. It isn't far from Shedu Maad to Hapes, but it feels like he's got the galaxy to cross.  
  
Briefly, he wonders why Han summoned _him_ , not Luke. Spends a lot more time wondering if this is about Jaina.  
  
Then he thinks, "Of course it is. Why else would Han comm _me_ in the middle of the night?"  
  
Kyp hasn't properly spoken to her since before she got married a little over a year ago. He's resigned himself to being fifty and still single, still stupidly in love with a married woman.  
  
_You're the one that dumped Thelia_ , he reminds himself.  
  
But he hadn't loved Lia. Anyway, last he's heard, she's married herself, with a little one on the way. That could have been him, but he couldn't do that to her.  
  
So now he finds himself running off in the middle of the night, potentially to the rescue of the one woman he can't have, all because he's an idiot who held back when he should have made a move.  
  
It's a short series of jumps, only a few hours, but getting through the convoluted mess that is the Hapes cluster means he has to pay attention for every step. He's been awake well over a standard day by the time he exits hyperspace and hails Hapes Control for landing clearance.  
  
He knows Han and Leia are frequent visitors to Hapes, practically living at the palace. The Queen Mother's heir, Allana, is their granddaughter. He can't imagine what's so urgent that Han had to summon him this way, and by this point, he's too tired to run through the possibilities too much.  
  
Did something happen to Jaina? To Jag?  
  
Kyp shoves that aside and lands his fighter not far from the _Millennium Falcon_. He's not exactly surprised to find Han Solo there, the ramp down and sounds of mechanical repair going on inside. Han stands by the ramp with Jaina's droid, Rowdy, wiping his hands on a cloth as he watches Kyp approach.  
  
"You look like hell, kid," Han says finally.  
  
"You said it was urgent," Kyp points out. "I haven't slept, and I'm not young enough to pull all-nighters anymore."  
  
Han's hazel eyes pass over Kyp's greying hair and he shakes his head. "Sometimes I still see you as that obnoxious sixteen-year-old. You should have those of your own by now."  
  
His friend knows very well why he doesn't. "Han. What was so urgent?"  
  
A curse sounds from inside the ship, a voice Kyp would know anywhere. Han jerks his head towards it.  
  
"I tracked down your missing council member," is all Han says.  
  
Jaina's here, judging from the droid, her curses, and Han's remark. Arching a brow, Kyp pushes past him. He's tired, he's hungry, and he's irritated by whatever game Han is playing.  
  
Han's voice stops him as he puts a foot down on the ramp. "Oh, and, uh, make sure you got your lightsaber. You might need it."  
  
Baffled, Kyp checks for the weapon he _knows_ is at his hip. Then he turns and boards the old freighter. Following the creative use of expletives, some of them in tongues he doesn't know, he finds Jaina upside down in the main cabin area, only her legs sticking out of the open hatch in the floor.  
  
He crouches by the hatch. She hasn't noticed him, too busy yelling at the part she's fixing to hear his approach. In a lull between curses, he speaks.  
  
"Need help?"  
  
Jaina yelps and topples head-first into the compartment. Kyp laughs and peers over the edge at her, somewhat cautiously. A wrench nearly hits him in the head and he retreats.  
  
After a minute, she picks herself up and stands, her head barely emerging from the compartment. Sometimes, he forgets how tiny she is. She glares at him, brandy-brown eyes flashing.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
Kyp picks up the wrench she threw and holds it out. "You missed the last three council meetings, Master Fel."  
  
Something goes through her eyes and she snatches the wrench hard enough to hurt. He flexes his fingers, frowning as she goes back to her repair. When a series of clangs erupt from the hole, he asks, "Are you fixing that or trying to beat it into submission?"  
  
"Go away, Durron," she snarls.  
  
"If I wanted my head bit off, I'd go play with Allana's nexu," he says mildly. "You ignored Luke's summons. You never do that."  
  
She tells him in Huttese to perform physiologically impossible acts.  
  
Kyp rolls his eyes, used to her brand of anger, and sits on the floor.  
  
After a minute of more bangs and pounding, it stops. He hears the wrench fall to the floor. She's stopped inventing contortions for him to try. In fact, she's stopped speaking at all.  
  
When he shifts to look down, he sees Jaina sitting on the floor of the compartment, hand pressed to her mouth, tears running down her cheeks. It takes him a second to realise her wedding ring is missing.  
  
He realizes then that he's been set up.  
  
Without a thought, he lowers himself over the edge and sits next to her.  
  
"You wanna talk about it?" he asks gently.  
  
"No."  
  
"Okay."  
  
They sit in silence for a while. Eventually, she stops crying, and it's only then that he dares take her hand, holding it up to examine her bare finger. He doesn't have to say anything, just run his fingertips over the empty space.  
  
"I don't know why I thought I could make it work," she says, her voice raspy from her tirade against the hyperdrive. "I mean, we broke up _twice_ after we got engaged, and even that took fifteen years of fighting before he asked."  
  
"When did this happen?"  
  
"Officially? Yesterday. Unofficially, it's been a few weeks."  
  
Kyp let his head drop back against the wall. "Uh-huh."  
  
"I just got _tired_ of it," she whispers. "The bickering, everything. The Moffs Council wants him back. He wanted to move to Bastion."  
  
"Did he start up with the 'leave the Jedi for me' stuff again?"  
  
Silently, she nods.  
  
"I'm sorry. I hoped that when he stepped down, it meant you two had worked that out."  
  
"I thought we had." She withdraws her hand from his and lets out a shuddering sigh. "But I guess we were just too different. I run hot, he runs cold."  
  
"For what it's worth, I hope you guys would make it last."  
  
She snorts. "No, you didn't."  
  
He tips his head, looking at her directly for the first time since she threw the wrench at his head. "I did. One of us should get that happy ending. You were the more likely candidate anyway. Besides . . ."  
  
When he stops, she prompts, "What?"  
  
"Your happiness has always been the more important thing to me. Even if it wasn't with me."  
  
It's the first time he's ever spoken aloud of his feelings for her, after close to twenty years. It was just always silently acknowledged, after that awkward rooftop picnic on Borleias when she was nineteen.  
  
She's thirty-six now, her own brief apprentice recently Knighted. He's proud of that fact, even if he didn't have a hand in training Ben Skywalker. He enjoys Jaina's successes. Most of them.  
  
He doesn't take pleasure in this failure, contrary to what some would think. He hates to see her hurting.  
  
"So what now?" he asks. "Is it over-over, or is it gonna drag out in an ugly mess . . .?"  
  
Jaina exhales slowly. "It's over-over. Everything's filed away, all neat and tidy, as of yesterday afternoon. I . . . didn't even tell Mom and Dad about it until last night."  
  
Then she narrows her eyes, shifting to look at him. "How did you know I was here? To get here from Shedu Maad, you had to leave last night."  
  
There's no point in lying. It will only make her angry. "I left at 0300. Han said it was urgent."  
  
She scoops the wrench off the floor and throws it with a frustrated yell. It bounces off the wall, richocets, and narrowly misses her head.  
  
"That wrench sure likes skulls," he comments, smothering a laugh.  
  
"ARGH! I'm going to strangle-" Jaina begins to stand, to go yell at her father.  
  
Kyp gives in to the laugh, grabbing her hand to yank her back. "Jay. He was doing what a father does. He knew you needed a friend. One that, incidentally, is pretty used to taking your abuse. Couldn't be Zekk, obviously, Taryn would probably punch you for throwing a wrench at her husband."  
  
With an explosive sigh, Jaina drops back down to sit beside him. "You're not my punching bag."  
  
She leans her head against his shoulder, the first contact she's initiated in years. "I left him," she tells him. "All this time, I've been afraid of people leaving, and _I'm_ the one that walked away."  
  
"You can't fix something that's fundamentally broken."  
  
"Do you mean me, or my marriage?"  
  
"You're not broken, Jaina. You might have been banged up around the edges from time to time, but I've never seen you break."  
  
"And you've been watching a _long_ time. Creep."  
  
It's said with humour and a nudge to his side. He gives her one back. She laughs. He gets the feeling, from the slightly surprised expression that comes over her, that she hasn't really laughed in a while.  
  
"You and Jag tried. You tried long after I would have called it quits, and I'm almost the most stubborn man in existence," Kyp says.  
  
"You're one to talk about letting go of things," she mutters. Jaina straightens, rubs the bare spot on her finger.  
  
Kyp gives her another nudge. "I just have a lot more experience at trying too hard."  
  
She reaches up and tugs at one of his silver-streaked black curls. "Yeah, you're really getting up there, aren't you?"  
  
"I didn't start going grey until I took you as my apprentice. I got my first grey hair at thirty-three. Thirty-three! And it was _your_ fault!"  
  
"Oh, sure, blame me for lousy genetics." She gives the curl another pull.  
  
He catches her hand, wraps his around it, holding it away from his hair. Her breath catches, just a little, and he almost misses it.  
  
Almost.  
  
There's suddenly too little air in their compartment. Kyp drops her hand as if burned, rattled by what that tiny hitch in her breathing does to him. He'd thought he was over that gut reaction by now, but apparently not. She quickly looks away, so he can't see her face, but if she didn't feel it, too, he'll kiss a Wookiee.  
  
He clears his throat. "What are you going to do now?"  
  
She takes a moment to reply. "Well, the first thing I'm doing is dropping 'Fel'. And then . . . I don't know. Pack up his things out of our quarters at the Temple and send them to Bastion."  
  
"Or burn them."  
  
Jaina laughs. "Or that."  
  
"I've got a lighter, if you need one."  
  
"I will keep that in mind."  
  
Kyp stands, not without difficulty because they've been sitting there a while and his rear end is numb. He offers Jaina a hand up and she takes it.  
  
"I'm still going to have a word with Dad about him tricking you into coming here," she says.  
  
"He did what he needed to do."  
  
"Yeah, but he didn't need to trick you."  
  
He touches her shoulder when she turns to adjust the coupling on a bundle of wires. "I don't mind. You know I don't. It's not like he could just tell me what happened."  
  
She sighs. "Yeah."  
  
"You okay now? Not going to mangle the hyperdrive more?"  
  
"I'm good. And Kyp?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thank you."

"Any time, Goddess."


	2. Pain

She moves her quarters from the ones she shared with Jag to another area, and her parents assist. As she packs up Jag's things to send to him on Bastion, she finds herself sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes, holding her hand. She's cut herself on one of the cartons, and red blood wells up across her palm.  
  
"He's not even here and he can hurt me," she says to her mother, as Leia fetches the first aid kit. "Why?"  
  
Leia helps her clean the wound and apply a bacta patch. She's quiet for several long moments, considering her daughter's question. "I don't know," she says finally. "Because you let him? This isn't really him, though, you know that."  
  
Jaina rubs her thumb over the fabric backing of the patch and sighs. "I know. I loved him. I still love him. And I *know* he loves me. But why did he- Why did I let him hurt me so much? Why did I keep taking him back? It should have been clear early on it wasn't going to work."  
  
"Because you love him," Leia says. "But sometimes, love isn't enough. Look at Tenel Ka. She and Jacen loved each other, but that wasn't enough. Jacen loved something else more."  
  
Jaina nods. "And Jag loves the Empire more. I always knew that. I thought I could take second place to it. I mean, my duty to the Jedi . . ."  
  
"I don't think Jag intentionally hurt you, Jaina. He was just raised very differently than you were."  
  
"As nice as that is to hear, it doesn't change that he did."  
  
"I know."  
  
Jaina heaves a sigh and shoves the rest of Jag's things into the cargo container for him. There's surprisingly little of it. Most of his stuff he kept on the _Gilad Pellaeon_ , his Star Destroyer, and then later on his personal craft after he stepped down as Head of State.  
  
Her naked ring finger itches, and she scratches idly at the skin.  
  
"I spent too long on him," she says. "No more. He had seventeen of the best years of my life. He's not getting the rest."


	3. Insomnia

She isn't surprised to find him in the Temple's food-prep area, in the middle of the night, with a mug of hot chocolate. Well, the chocolate surprises her, at least.  
  
There's a small eating area near the kitchens where those who are eating between the main meals can sit and grab something to eat, and it's at one of the tables in that room where she finds Kyp.  
  
It's been a month since her divorce. She can't sleep.  
  
He remarks on it as she sits down with her own mug.  
  
"My room feels a little . . . empty," she confesses softly. "I'm still not used to sleeping alone."  
  
His green eyes search her face, then go back to his mug. "I know the feeling."  
  
She remembers now that he'd had someone, before Darth Caedus. He had, according to her aunt and uncle--before Mara had died--had his hair long for the woman. What was her name? Right. Thelia. But after Jacen died, before that mess with Abeloth, Kyp had shorn his hair almost to his scalp. She'd commented once that she didn't like the look on him, and now it was back to the way she was used to, black-and-silver curls reaching to his collar.  
  
Jaina knows why she has that power, and it makes her feel guilty and uncomfortable sometimes.  
  
"I thought the insomnia went away," she says. "When I got out of that depression."  
  
"You feeling depressed now?"  
  
"Little bit."  
  
He takes a sip of his chocolate. When he sets the mug down, she can tell it's an almost bitter chocolate, not quite as dark as caf. Her own is sweetened almost too much, which is funny because she takes her caf black.  
  
"You know, I don't think I've really had a decent night's sleep since I was sixteen," she says. "I'm conditioned to wake at the slightest thing. It drove Jag nuts."  
  
He smirks. "I don't think I have, either."  
  
"Since I was sixteen?" she quips.  
  
Those green eyes rake over her, a smart remark clearly on his tongue. The heat there makes her flush. He apparently thinks better of whatever he was going to say and murmurs, "No, since I was. I still dream about Carida."  
  
"I dream about Jacen," she whispers.  
  
Kyp huffs a breath, says, "To killing our brothers."  
  
It's wry, sad, and as he holds out his mug, Jaina clinks hers against it, because she knows the feeling.  
  
They sit in silence for a while. When Jaina's chocolate runs out, she spins the mug in her hands for a few moment, then stands.  
  
"Well . . . Good night."  
  
He salutes her with his mug, a silent farewell, and goes back to brooding.  
  
She sighs as the transparisteel door slides shut behind her.


	4. Crazy

“So, question.”  
  
Jaina drops into her chair in the Master’s Circle, conveniently next to Kyp’s. They're early for the meeting, and he's involved with his datapad.  
  
He drags his eyes from the screen, which appears to show a report on the latest efforts to locate the Sith. “What?”  
  
“If you grew up on Kessel, which is near the Maw, why didn't _you_ go barvy?”  
  
Kyp stares at her with one eyebrow lifted, not responding.  
  
“Okay, okay, stupid question. You were too far away, and you're Kyp Durron. Been there, done that on the Dark Side possession.”  
  
He snorts softly and turns off the datapad. “I never felt the pull. And the brief time I was in the Maw, if Abeloth tried… Again, I didn't feel it. I was sixteen by then, anyway.”  
  
She leans her elbows on the arm of the chair. “Speaking of Kessel, we’ve had to go there about six times in the last four years, but no one sent you. You probably know it best.”  
  
“They asked. I refused.” He wedges the datapad between his leg and the side of the chair. “I intend to never go back there, and Luke respects that. So does Han.”  
  
“Okay. I get that.”  
  
“I'd only want to go back for my parents, but I'm not even sure which grave they're in.”  
  
She reaches out, lightly touches his arm. “I'm sorry.”  
  
He gives her a faint smile.  
  
The doors open and the other masters begin filing in. Kyp picks up his datapad. Then he leans back over and stage-whispers, “Besides, everyone knows I'm already crazy.”


	5. Blossom

Shedu Maad is mostly temperate, but it doesn't have the climate control stations that Coruscant does, so it actually gets seasons. It's spring where the Jedi Temple is, and there are flowers everywhere.

Allana, Jaina's niece, has come to formally train at the academy now that she's ten, almost eleven. She and her nexu, Anji, play in the garden that one of the Ithorian Jedi cultivates. The large, dangerous feline rolls on her back and lets Allana rub her belly, growling and purring as the girl's fingers dig into her fur. Jaina would be alarmed at Allana owning such a pet if the incredibly smart nexu wasn't fiercely protective of the girl, as if Allana were her cub.  
  
Jaina sits with them, effectively babysitting the Chume'da. While there is relative peace in the galaxy, some idiot is always threatening the heir to the Hapan throne. Allana is never alone, something Jaina would find irritating.  
  
She watches the two play, the pale-furred nexu and the red-haired child, and wonders if, someday, she'll have any of her own. She had planned to have children with Jag, but that had not happened. Now she's divorced, something she definitely had never planned on.  
  
Anji notices some birds and stalks off into the flowers to hunt them. Allana is distracted by some bright flowers, and she plucks a few, plopping down on the ground to weave a crown out of them.  
  
There's a footfall on the path, and Kyp appears around the corner, dressed in dark robes. Allana looks up from the crown and yelps, "Master Durron!"  
  
She stands, crown in hand, and runs over to him. Jaina is a little bemused when the girl hugs the Jedi Master. She's just plain amused when Allana insists he wear the crown she just made.  
  
Covering her mouth with her hand to hide her smile, Jaina grins as her niece carefully rests the pink and orange flowers on Kyp's head. When he glances her way, Jaina stops hiding the grin.  
  
"What do you think, Master Solo?" he asks as he and the girl come over to Jaina's bench. "Should we incorporate this into the official Jedi uniform?"  
  
She laughs. "Oh, I dunno. Might be difficult to keep on your head while dueling."  
  
Anji slinks through the flowers, sneaking up on Kyp, and headbutts him in the back of the legs. The broad feline head is wider than Kyp's shoulders, so it's no surprise that the impact, unexpected and unseen, makes his legs buckle.  
  
Kyp stumbles and only lands on the bench because Jaina grabs his arm. The crown falls from his head and lands on the ground. Anji crouches, four large eyes squeezed shut in feline amusement, tail weaving to show she wants to play.  
  
Allana says, "Bad Anji!" She picks up the fallen flower crown. The petals are bent now, and her eyes fill with tears.  
  
Kyp reaches out, takes the crown, and puts it back on his head. Allana immediately perks up and lets Anji drag her off into the flowers.  
  
"You need kids of your own," Jaina remarks, reached up to straighten one mangled blossom.  
  
"I might be too old for that," he says.  
  
"If Mom and Dad can do it at sixty, I think you could manage at fifty."  
  
He shrugs, eyes fixed on Allana and Anji. "Maybe. That would require a mother for them, though."  
  
She can't argue that. A thought occurs to her, and she ducks her head. He needs a mother for children. She needs a father for them.  
  
She's not about to suggest, two months out of a disastrous marriage, that they have them together. But the thought is there, and she suddenly can't make it go away.  
  
Her brown eyes slide up, to the crown on his head. "I'm not sure pink is your colour," she says.  
  
"Oh, shut up."


	6. Smirk

They've just been to see one of Jaina's oldest friends for his help on a technical matter. Lowbacca, a Wookiee and the nephew of Chewbacca, spent most of the time they were there subtly eyeing Kyp.  
  
“I always feel really short next to Lowie,” Kyp grumbles.  
  
Jaina glances up. He's average height, a few centimetres shorter than Jag--more than a few shorter than Han or either of her brothers had been. “I think your height is fine. Lowie is nearly two and a quarter meters. Everyone is taller than me except Tekli.”  
  
“And the five-year-olds.”  
  
She pretends to punch him in the stomach. “At least you're taller than Corran.”  
  
He smirks, catching the fist she just hit him with. The smirk does funny things to her stomach, things that she’d hoped would have stopped by now. Seventeen years, though, and it still does.  
  
She looks away.   
  
Seventeen years, and she's as confused as ever.


	7. Regret

Luke decides that, since Allana's training is unusual and technically outside the regular structure of the academy, that she's to be Jaina's apprentice. Jaina knows it's to give her something to do in Jag's absence, but she doesn't mind spending time with her bright, adorable niece.  
  
She's composing a message on her datapad to Tenel Ka, Allana's mother, when the door to her office slides open and the girl herself comes in, followed by her nexu. Even if the door had been locked, Jaina's made sure that Allana has the codes to it and to her quarters. Allana technically lives with Jaina's parents, but Jaina's considered taking over and having the girl move in with her to give Han and Leia some freedom.  
  
"Hi, sweetie," she says, setting the datapad aside as Allana hops into the chair on the other side of Jaina's desk. "What's up?"  
  
"I was thinking," the girl begins, and her small face is serious.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"When Grandma and Grandpa went to help Uncle Lando, you and Uncle Jag went with. But he didn't come back." The girl's grey eyes search Jaina's face. "Uncle Jag, I mean. And you've been really sad."  
  
Jaina sighs and stands, motioning for her niece to follow her over to the sofa. "Come here, Allana."  
  
She realises that Allana is almost as tall now as she is. It brings to mind Kyp's remark that only the academy's five-year-old students are shorter than Jaina. And while Allana looks a lot like her mother, Jaina can see so much of Jacen in her.  
  
The three of them--adult, child, large predatory feline--pile onto the sofa. Allana snuggles up to Jaina, and Anji makes a few growly noises, then sprawls across the two of them, her massive head mostly on Allana's lap. Jaina has to smile. Jacen would have loved this.  
  
"You're sad," Allana states, and Anji's head lifts, all four eyes blinking at Jaina.  
  
"Just remembering your dad. He would have loved having a pet nexu."  
  
Allana's small hands dig into Anji's fur, and the nexu relaxes with a huff.  
  
"Where's Uncle Jag?" the child asks. "You're not in the quarters you had with him, and his things aren't here. Did . . . he die?"  
  
"No, sweetheart, Jag didn't die. He, um . . . You know how he was with the Empire, and he left them to live with us for a while?"  
  
"Yeah. He was the Head of State."  
  
Jaina nods and smooths her hand over the red-gold hair on Allana's head. "Well, he got offered a job by the Empire, and it conflicted with my being a Jedi."  
  
"Being a Jedi is important," Allana says indignantly. "What job is more important than that?"  
  
"Whatever they were offering," Jaina laughs softly. "We talked for a while and decided that, while we love each other, we couldn't be together. So Jag and I aren't married anymore."  
  
It was a huge simplification of the tension, the arguments, and the last screaming match they'd had. Jaina wasn't sure how her marriage had collapsed so swiftly and suddenly, but it had been like a long, slow, unnoticed leak in a reactor core that had abruptly gone critical.  
  
She slides her hand along Anji's side, avoiding the blunted spines on the feline's back. "He's gone back to where he's needed, and I'm here."  
  
Allana frowns. The nexu, so attuned to her owner's emotions, looks at the girl, then cranes her broad, flat head to look at Jaina. Jaina sends Anji soothing thoughts.  
  
"It makes you sad. Are you going to start drinking?"  
  
Jaina's brows nearly meet her hairline. "What? Why would you think that?"  
  
Her niece looks down at the nexu, as if she's sharing something she shouldn't. "When you and Uncle Jag . . . Is he still Uncle Jag?"  
  
"Not technically, but I don't mind if you call him that."  
  
"Okay. Um. When you and Uncle Jag got married, and you went on your honeymoon, Master Durron got really, really sad, and- and he was drunk a lot. I'm probably not supposed to know that, but he and Grandpa went away in the _Falcon_ for a week, and left me and Grandma with Mom. Grandma wouldn't talk about it, but Mom said . . . that Master Durron had his heart broken."  
  
Jaina closes her eyes, guilt washing over her. She knows part of that is her fault. She let Jag talk her into talking _Kyp_ into heading the honour guard at the wedding. She'd thought it was a bad idea, but Jag always seemed to get his way. He had ever since that kriffing picnic on Borleias. Making Kyp participate in her wedding to someone else had been phenomenally stupid.  
  
Knowing that Kyp got _that_ depressed makes her stomach hurt. Her friend isn't the type to retreat and drown his sorrows, he's the confront-the-problem-and-punch-it type, with the sole exception of their very awkward, nebulous relationship.  
  
Sensing Jaina's upset, Anji jumps down and begins stalking the office, looking for the threat. Allana immediately starts calming the nexu, while Jaina gets a stranglehold on her emotions and shoves them into a little box for the moment, until the danger of being mauled by a stressed nexu has passed. She minimises her Force-presence, and the feline finally sprawls on the floor.  
  
She shouldn't be surprised to learn that Kyp hurt that badly. Despite his denials and pretense over the years, she knows he loves her. Having to participate when she married someone else must have been like a vibroshiv to the gut.  
  
"He's happier now, though," Allana says, drawing Jaina out of her stomach-burbling reverie. "I guess since Uncle Jag left."  
  
The girl frowns. "Who broke Master Durron's heart?"  
  
Jaina sighs. "I'm afraid I did, sweetie."  
  
Allana is a smart girl, and catches on quickly. It's been her mother's policy, and thus that of Han and Leia, to not shield Allana from anything except the ugliest things, and even then only on a direct visual. Allana is the Chume'da, the heir to the throne of the Hapes Consortium. Her childhood has never been and never will be as innocent as it should be.  
  
So when she speaks, Jaina isn't surprised by the inquiry.  
  
"Master Durron loves you?"  
  
"He's my best friend," Jaina says, dodging the immediate question. "But we've never been together the way I was with Jag, or even with Zekk."  
  
Allana pulls a face. "You dated Zekk? Does Taryn know?"  
  
Jaina chuckles. Zekk, one of her oldest and best friends--and a sort-of former love--is married to Taryn Zel, the cousin of Allana's mother. "Not exactly, but yes, Taryn knows."  
  
"So you've never dated Master Durron, but he loves you and got hurt when you married Uncle Jag."  
  
That sums it up really well. "Yeah."  
  
Allana's grey eyes are intent. "Do you love _him_?"  
  
And there's the 60 million credit question.  
  
"Well . . ." Jaina says slowly, stalling to avoid an answer. Because she knows she cares for Kyp, always has, and the thought of him hurting so much makes her want to cry, all the worse for knowing she caused it. He's been her best friend for years, the one she can always count on.  
  
She thinks of his smiles, the way he sat with her in silence and let her cry when she left Jag, the support he gave her when she had to kill Jacen.  
  
And she thinks, but isn't anywhere near ready to say it, that the answer to that oh-so-loaded question is "yes".  
  
"I'm not sure," she says finally, knowing she can't avoid Allana's question entirely.  
  
The girl makes an exasperated sound. "Either you do or you don't, Aunt Jaina!"  
  
Jaina smiles wryly. "Wait 'til you're old enough for boys, and see how long that certainty lasts, young lady."  
  
Allana's mouth opens to retort, but a low chime sounds, alerting for the class change. Jaina checks her wrist chrono and says, "I think it's time for your lesson with Tionne now."  
  
Grumpily, Allana gets to her feet. "Okay. But I really think that if he's your best friend, and he loves you, you should love him back."  
  
Her niece leaves, nexu in tow. Jaina wearily scrubs her hands over her face and sighs.  
  
"Yeah," Jaina whispers to herself. "But I'm scared to."


	8. Hope

He's in the middle of sparring with a YVH droid when he becomes aware he's got an audience. The only living being who’ll willingly spar with Kyp is Jaina. She's the only one who can keep up with him, since Luke is still, over a year out, recovering from the injuries Abeloth gave him.  
  
But when he reaches out to see who his visitor is--not taking his eyes off the deadly droid--Kyp is surprised that it's two visitors, a human and an animal. The predatory sense from the latter tells him that Allana Djo Solo has come to watch him.  
  
The red-violet blade of his lightsaber whirls in a blur as he blocks and throws back a flurry of blaster bolts. Allana is safe, behind the reinforced transparisteel window of the sparring room’s observation booth. Kyp scores enough hits on the reinforced droid that it intones, “Time. Match won, Master Durron.”  
  
He shuts off his lightsaber, telling the droid to put itself away. He's breathing a little hard; he had the droid on its most difficult setting, which was almost, but not quite, enough to give him a run for his money.  
  
Kyp clips the lightsaber to his belt and finally turns to see Allana watching, small hands pressed to the glass, grey eyes big with awe. Smiling to himself, Kyp picks up a towel as he enters the booth and wipes his face.  
  
The young princess looks him up and down. “You're really fast,” she says. “As fast as Jaina.”  
  
He lifts a brow. "Since I'm older, _she's_ as fast as _me_.”  
  
The girl laughs. “I mean, I've only seen _her_ fight. Is that why everyone worries about you, Master Durron?”  
  
Kyp blinks. He tosses the towel into a laundry bin just inside the door and sits straddling one of the benches, pulling a bottle of hydrating fluid to him with the Force. Anji, the nexu, watches it float by. The animal is why he didn't get up for it; he's not stupid enough to put his back to the nexu, even if she's semi-tame.  
  
He pops the cap, takes a drink, then asks, “Worried about me?”  
  
Allana nods, then carefully sits down. “Maybe not worried. Maybe…”  
  
“Afraid?” Kyp asks wryly.  
  
“A little, yeah. Why would they be? Jaina isn't.”  
  
He snorts. “There's not a lot your aunt is afraid of.”  
  
“That's true. Jaina is really brave.” The girl cocks her head, and Kyp can see Jacen Solo in her then, in the shape of her eyes, her mouth. The colouring is her mother's, but the ghost of her father lives on in this child.  
  
“I don't know that they're afraid,” he says slowly. “Just cautious. I did some things when I was… Wow, only a little older than you, and the others…”  
  
“Bad things?” she asks. “Things like my daddy?”  
  
Kyp sighs. “Kind of. Yeah. But your grandpa helped me straighten out.”  
  
“Grandpa couldn't help my daddy,” Allana says softly.  
  
It really isn't fair, Kyp thinks, what Jacen Solo did. Especially to this little girl, who will always know that her father, as much as he loved her, was a monster. The poor kid shouldn't have such burdens. She's only ten.  
  
“Your aunt tried,” he says gently. “But sometimes you can't help people, as hard as you try.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Anji puts her big head on Allana’s lap. The child absentmindedly starts petting the feline. Kyp marvels that the girl is completely unafraid of the nexu. He remembers that her father had a crystal snake when he was fourteen. The thing was deadly, but Jacen carried it in his pocket.  
  
Kyp hasn't spent time with kids since Jaina was one. It occurs to him that it's probably not appropriate to be alone with Allana, but there are security cameras everywhere, and Anji would literally eat him if she thought him a threat.  
  
“Jaina worries about you,” Allana says. “And she's sad.”  
  
“She does, huh? What's she sad about?”  
  
“Being alone. She's been sad since Uncle Jag left. Except when she's with you.”  
  
Kyp takes another sip from the electrolyte-infused drink. It tastes like gundark sweat, in his opinion, but it works.  
  
“She says she broke your heart and she feels bad.”  
  
He chokes, spluttering. Anji rears back and hisses at him.  
  
“Anji!” Allana scolds.  
  
Kyp coughs, clears his throat. His eyes water. “Did Jaina _say_ that, in those words, or are you inferring?” His voice is rough, a little strangled. He’d forgotten how forthright children, especially Solo children, can be.  
  
“She said it,” the girl insists. “So I came to ask if you're going to be her boyfriend.”  
  
He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Uh. That choice is not up to me, kid. And it's more complicated than just deciding I'm going to… be her boyfriend.”  
  
Kyp can't believe he's getting relationship advice from a ten-year-old.   
  
“She's not married and you're not married. And you love each other. So why is it complicated?”  
  
Ah, the innocence of youth. But her words give him pause. “Did she says she loves me?” he asks.  
  
“... Not exactly,” the girl hedges. “But I know she does. She feels happy with you.”  
  
“She's my friend,” he points out. “If she were miserable around me, we wouldn't be friends, would we?”  
  
“I guess.” Allana reluctantly stands. “You should talk to her.”  
  
Head high, the future Queen Mother leaves with her massive protector slinking along behind her. Kyp watches her leave, feeling a bit like he's been hit between the eyes with a shovel.  
  
“That kid is going to mow down everything in her way,” he mutters.  
  
He finishes his drink and tosses it in the recycler beside the laundry bin. With a sigh, he stands.  
  
She's perceptive, he'll give her that. But she isn't right about everything. Jaina doesn't love him. Not the way he wants. And she never will.  
  
 _”You love each other.”_  
  
And yet, he suddenly wonders, what if the kid is right?


	9. Alone

Kyp's always figured it's his lot in life to be alone. He spent seven years alone on Kessel, and after Carida, he pretty much deserved to be ostracized. Companionship was always temporary until he fell in love with Jaina. After her, he tried desperately to erase his feelings and replace them with someone else. He almost succeeded with Thelia, but ultimately, he couldn't condemn either of them to a life like that.  
  
He opens his Holonet messages and finds one from her, as if he summoned her just by thinking her name. Kyp idly clicks on it, finds it's a holo of her and her new baby, a blonde-haired and blue-eyed little boy.  
  
 _I hope you're doing well_ , the message reads. _Jaster and I welcomed Miko three weeks ago. I hope you don't mind my naming him for your apprentice. I really liked the name, after you told me about him, and I think Miko Reglia should live on somehow, after his brave deeds. I haven't heard from you in a while, and I can understand that. I saw the reports of Jaina Solo's wedding. I can't imagine that was easy for you._  
  
 _I'm sorry that things didn't end well between us, but I know now that you made the right choice, even if I was hurt and angry at the time. I loved you, but I'm very happy with Jaster and I know I'm where I'm supposed to be. So thank you for that. Please let me know how you're doing. You still mean a lot to me, Kyp, and I don't like to think that you're alone._  
  
Kyp scrubs his hands over his face and sighs. Oh, he's as alone as he ever was, and it's somehow harder for knowing that Jaina is single again. She's going to find someone and it's not going to be him, as much as he wants and hopes it to be. Why would she want him? He's too old, too . . . Too much himself. He wouldn't want him, either.  
  
He'd had the idly hope that he could one day name a son after his apprentice, but since he's past fifty now, the chances of _that_ happening are next to nil. He's not upset that Thelia used the name. Someone should.  
  
He taps out a quick reply, not up to a longer message.  
  
 _I'm doing great. Can't tell you where the Jedi are, but it's quieter than Coruscant. Food isn't as good or as varied, but I deal with it. I'm not seeing anyone at the moment, but I don't have time anyway. Congratulations on Miko's birth. He's a cute kid._  
  
Kyp spends a good five minutes reading and rereading the message, decides it's not going to get any better, and sends it.  
  
His intercom chimes. The voice of Luke's assistant, Seha Dorvald, says, "Council meeting in ten minutes, Master Durron."  
  
"Thank you, Jedi Dorvald," he acknowledges. "I'll be there."  
  
Taking his finger off the intercom button, he sighs, "It's not like I have anything better to do."


	10. Glass

She's never understood why some people insist on making things out of glass when transparisteel is available. It looks exactly the same to her eye, and it's a million times stronger.

But she understands completely when someone refers to a "heart of glass".

Kyp Durron isn't someone she would have ever figured to have one. Jaina's always thought his to be made of cortosis. She hadn't given a thought to how he must have been feeling the day of her wedding. She'd been in orbit, so to speak, so happy to be marrying Jag that she hadn't noticed anything else.

Sitting in the Masters' Council, as they discuss the latest reports from the Knights they sent out--looking for Kesh, the planet of the Sith, or for the Mortis Monolith--Jaina doesn't pay attention to the current speaker. Oh, she's looking at him, pretending to listen, but all her attention is on the Jedi Master just to her right.

Kyp sits with a slight frown as he listens. They've lost contact with another of the Knights, and his concern is visible on his face when Jaina glances his way.

She wonders why she didn't notice how upset he'd been. Why her father hadn't said anything. Then she chides herself. Of course he wouldn't tell her. It was none of her business.

She looks a little too long. Sensing her gaze on him, Kyp turns her way, one brow cocked in a silent question. Jaina shakes her head, and looks back to the hologram of the speaker projected in the middle of the circle.

You can repair glass, she thinks, but it's never the same afterwards. She should know; her own shattered when Jacen died. It's harder now, but it still chipped when she walked away from Jag.

She looks at Kyp out of the corner of her eye, finds he's still looking at her, much the same way she's looking at him.

She doesn't want her heart to break again.

She doesn't want to break his again, either.

Troubled, she makes herself focus on the report. Her love life can wait.


	11. Crimson

They're on the planet all of half an hour when the riot starts. They were sent specifically in case this happened: Sword of the Jedi and Destroyer of Worlds, there to deal with a potentially catastrophic revolution.  
  
Worlds all through the galaxy have been shoving off the chains of slavery for close to two years now, everywhere the Galactic Alliance hasn't been able--or willing--to reach. Kyp's past as a slave makes him particularly interested in this cause. Jaina's there because they're partners, and she's the Jedi's deadliest weapon.  
  
Sometimes, even peacekeepers need to bring out the big guns.  
  
Someone's hired Mandalorians again. Jaina lived with the Mandos once, trained with them. No one knows how they fight better than she does. And the hired soldiers are on the wrong side.  
  
Standing back to back in the middle of the street, Kyp says, "We haven't done this in a while."  
  
"Done what?"  
  
"Fought together."  
  
Jaina deflects a blaster bolt back to its source, knocking the Mando off his feet. "I can't actually recall the last time."  
  
Tired of dealing with one of the armoured men hiding behind an overturned hovervan, Kyp grabs the vehicle with the Force and shoves it back into the crowd of soldiers. They yell and scatter.  
  
One of them gets in a lucky shot, and the blast hits Kyp in the upper arm. Blood spills in a crimson streak down the sleeve of his robes. Jaina snaps, "Get down!" and he drops to a knee, pressing his unhurt hand to the wound to stem the flow. In the meantime, Jaina pulls her own blaster, shooting under the cover of her amethyst blade.  
  
"I'm fine," Kyp tells her. "It's just a graze."  
  
He stands, and Jaina quickly checks him for any other wounds. There are none, for which she's very relieved.  
  
The fight is over in minutes, the Mandalorians routed for the time being. Jaina drags Kyp into the local infirmary and forceably strips off the outer layer of his robes. His arm is smeared with blood.  
  
"I haven't seen you hurt in years," she says. "Getting old, are we?"  
  
"It was a lucky shot," he insists.  
  
Since the staff is shorthanded, Jaina cleans his wound herself. She's unsettled that he was hurt. She's used to injuries herself, but the thought of something happening to Kyp makes her stomach ache.  
  
Something must show on her face, because Kyp catches her chin in his hand as she's smoothing the bacta patch over his bicep.  
  
"Hey," he says. "I've had worse. This is nothing."  
  
"I know," she says, quickly avoiding his gaze, and he drops his hand. "I've just never liked seeing you hurt. If anyone's going to hurt you, Durron, it's going to be me."  
  
He laughs. The knot in her belly eases at the sound. "Spar with me sometime, then, and you can try."  
  
She gives him a half smile and picks up the torn, bloody robe. It's warm from his body, soft from years of wear. "You want to try to repair this, or chuck it?"  
  
"Repair it," he says. "We aren't made of money anymore."  
  
Jaina hands it back, catching a whiff of the cologne he wears as she does. "We'll go through stuff faster if you insist on bleeding on everything."  
  
He smirks.  
  
"Okay, you're patched up. Let's get back to work."


	12. Twilight

She's sitting in the garden again, watching little fireflies flit around, when a lithe blonde figure emerges from the falling darkness and drops to sit next to her on the bench. Tahiri is barefoot, as usual, which makes Jaina smile.  
  
"You're not the usual type for quiet contemplation," Tahiri says. "Your meditation technique usually involves punching things into submission."  
  
Jaina laughs. "I did that earlier. Decided to take a walk, got distracted by the glowy bugs."  
  
Tahiri watches the lights blink and flicker as the insects zoom around the garden. "They didn't have these on Tatooine, or on Yavin."  
  
"I know there are a bunch of places that have them, but I've never really gotten a good look at them before," Jaina says. "They look so magical."  
  
"Even when you know they're a bunch of glowing butts," Tahiri quips, and the two women laugh.  
  
Tahiri's officially been back in the Order a little under two years. Her life has been as convoluted and heartbreaking as Jaina's, just in different ways. Around the same people, though.  
  
Jaina's only a little resentful when Tahiri brings up one of them.  
  
"So. When were you gonna tell me you and Jag got divorced?"  
  
"Eventually. I just haven't . . . Announcing it seems like admitting failure." She looks over at her friend. "Who told you?"  
  
"Jag."  
  
Jaina nods.  
  
"We still talk," Tahiri says. "We became friends when I was his Hand. But I'm surprised to learn it from him and not you."  
  
"I'm sorry. I should have told you when it happened, I just . . . couldn't. I still haven't told most of the Council."  
  
"But you told Kyp."  
  
"It's a little difficult to keep secrets from Kyp Durron."  
  
Tahiri laughs. "That is very true."  
  
Then she asks, "Why? I mean, why did you and Jag split up?"  
  
"What did Jag say about it?"  
  
"That you chose the Jedi over him."  
  
Jaina shrugs. "The way I see it, he chose the Empire over me. It's always been the source of our problems."  
  
Tahiri nods. "And you're not suited to the Empire."  
  
Jaina's laugh is explosive. "Me? Not in the slightest. _You're_ more suited to that than I am."  
  
The other woman tenses. "Why, because I worked as Jag's Hand, or because I was an apprentice to a Sith Lord?"  
  
Sighing, Jaina shakes her head. "It's definitely not because of Jacen, Tahiri. Don't do that. I know who and what my brother was and I know what he was doing to you. I just meant . . . You think more like an Imperial than I do. Jag had nothing but praise for you after you helped him with Daala and the election and Abeloth."  
  
Mollified, Tahiri relaxes. "Sorry. It's still . . . touchy."  
  
"Understandable."  
  
The blonde clears her throat. "So, speaking of the Empire, Jag had some news."  
  
Jaina suddenly has a bad feeling about this.


	13. Hands

He’s working on his datapad when she pauses in his office doorway. It's late, the students and others retired, but Kyp Durron is still awake, going over a report or something.  
  
Jaina taps at the doorframe and he looks up, face bleached of colour by the datapad’s display. He blinks, as if just realising it's gotten dark.  
  
“You're working late,” she says as she enters.  
  
Kyp leans over and taps the lamp on his desk, turning it on. It spills warm, golden light through the room. “Luke wanted me to look over some things.”  
  
She perches on the edge of the desk. “I just had some news.”  
  
“Oh? What's that?”  
  
“The Imperial Remnant has joined with the Empire of the Hand under one banner.”  
  
His brow furrows. “You hear this from Jag?”  
  
She shakes her head. “No. Tahiri.”  
  
Kyp sets down the datapad. “Tahiri,” he repeats. “Why…?”  
  
She shrugs. “She worked for him. They keep in better contact.”  
  
Leaning back in his chair, Kyp frowns. “Okay. So they're regrouping.”  
  
“It gets better. They're renaming themselves, and are considering declaring themselves hostile to the Galactic Alliance. They've named an Emperor.”  
  
They both consider that in silence.  
  
“Do I _want_ to know?” he asks finally.  
  
She looks down at her ringless fingers.  “As of this morning, the Imperial Remnant is now the Galactic Empire, under the rule of Emperor Jagged Fel.”  
  
For once, Kyp doesn't have a single smart remark. He stares at her, mouth hanging open.  
  
“Looks like I really dodged a thud bug there, huh?” she asks, and her voice is bleak. “I don't know if he wanted me to be his Empress, or if this is retaliation for my divorcing him.”  
  
Kyp stands and guides her over to the sofa that takes up part of one wall, beside a mini-fridge and a small food prep unit. He fetches a bottle of Corellian whiskey from the cupboard and pours her a small amount in a tumbler, handing it over before he pours himself a glass.  
  
She could remark on his penchant for alcohol, given what she learned from Allana, but this isn't the time, and she'd only be doing it to lash out. Kyp doesn't deserve that.  
  
Jaina wraps her fingers around the glass, staring into the liquid. She's still a little numb from Tahiri’s report. Her ex-husband is an emperor. If Jacen were alive, he'd be ribbing her mercilessly.  
  
But he's not. She killed him almost four years ago.  
  
She takes a large gulp of the liquor, managing not to wince as it burns its way down. She does cough a little.   
  
“You're supposed to sip it,” Kyp says, “not inhale it.”  
  
“Kyp, please don't be facetious right now.”  
  
He toasts her silently and takes a drink.  
  
Jaina rolls the glass between her hands, back and forth, while she tries to think of words. They both know this was never what she wanted, what she never would have wanted. And though she divorced him months before, she still loves him.  
  
Wisely, Kyp offers no disparaging remarks, no wise cracks. As he did the day she told him her marriage was over, he merely sits in silent support while she gathers her thoughts.  
  
“Did I do this?” she asks finally. “Did I make him become this?”  
  
He drains his glass and sets it on the low table in front of the sofa.  
  
“No,” Kyp tells her. “Unless you held a blaster to his head or possessed him or something, you didn't _make_ Jag do anything. I suspect he got a taste of power when he was Head of State and he liked it. He wanted more, but he also wanted you. Since he risked losing you, he stepped down, got you to marry him, then planned to gradually introduce you to the idea. This is speculation, mind you. I've never trawled through his brain or anything.”  
  
She snorts.  
  
“So,” he continues, “you leave him because he's pushing you, yet again, to leave the Jedi, your family, and everything you've worked for your whole life, to move to the Unknown Regions. He figures, what the hell, he's got nothing to lose now, so he steps up and takes the throne.”  
  
She nods. Everything he says makes perfect sense. “The things I let him do…”  
  
Kyp arches a brow. Jaina reaches over and smacks his leg, where it's bent up on the sofa, since he's sitting sideways, facing her.  
  
“Not like that, you nerf,” she grumps, flushing, and he snickers.  
  
“If ‘not like that’, do elaborate. I don't want details on ‘that’, I should add.”  
  
She rolls her eyes. “I loved him. I think part of me always will. But there were just so many little things. I never did things the way he thought I should. I was too reckless for his tastes. I was never polished enough. He didn't want me to be a Jedi.”  
  
“Which shows a fundamental lack of understanding about who you are,” Kyp points out.  
  
“Exactly. He criticised and pushed and harassed when I was trying to figure out how to fight Jacen. He got me so angry once that I pushed him into a tree. And then there was the time he assaulted me in my quarters, in the dark, and kissed me.”  
  
Kyp goes dangerously still. “When was this?”  he asks, and his voice is carefully controlled.  
  
She waves a hand. It's long in the past, and she doesn't want him storming off to pound Jag into blorash jelly. "Please don't go start a war. I haven't fully recovered from the last three. Anyway, it was back during the Vong war, before we went after the Peace Brigade on Ylesia. Right after Jacen came back.”  
  
He's clearly bothered by her confession, and she reflects that, technically speaking, it _could_ be considered sexual assault. And his desire to avenge it this long after is really sweet. “Jay, I'm going to be very blunt here. Did you lose your vaping _mind_?! Why the _hell_ did you keep seeing that pile of bantha droppings, let alone marry him?”  
  
She sets her glass down and pressed the heels of both hands to her forehead, propping her elbows on her knees. “Because I loved him, and because Uncle Luke said I was going to be alone, and I latched onto Jag because I was terrified he was right and I wanted to prove him wrong.”  
  
Kyp makes a derisive sound. “You married an emotionally abusive megalomaniac to spite your uncle.”  
  
To their mutual surprise, she laughs. It’s a little bitter, and not pretty, but it still holds amusement. Self-deprecating amusement, but amusement nonetheless.  
  
“Yeah, I guess I did.”  
  
“And people think _I’m_ masochistic,” he mutters darkly, and rises to pour himself another drink.  
  
When he comes back, it's with the bottle. He sets it on the table and reclaims his seat.  
  
“You didn't just dodge a thud bug, Jaina, you dodged kriffing worldship.”  
  
“I should tell Uncle Luke. My parents.”  
  
“You haven't?” he asks, genuinely surprised.   
  
“No. I… wanted to talk it out with you first, before I said anything. I mean, what _am_ I gonna say?”  
  
“Same thing you told me. Jag's gone crazy and declared himself emperor.”  
  
She sighs and lifts her head, eyes closed as she leans back on the sofa. “They'll want to do something about him.”  
  
“That's not our arena anymore,” he reminds her. “At least until he does something stupid, like attack the Alliance. Then they need to submit a formal, notarised request in triplicate. Even then, I'm done with politics. I never wanted to be involved, I only did it as a favour to Luke.”  
  
“I miss when things were pretty simple, before the invasion. All I had planned was to be a Jedi and have my own ship.”  
  
“Things don't have to be that complicated now. You're a Jedi, a Jedi _Master_ , and I'm sure your sister-in-law would give you any ship you wanted.”  
  
Jaina shakes her head. “She's not my sister-in-law.”  
  
“She's the mother of your niece. And I'm sure that if Jacen hadn't turned, they'd be married now. That's close enough for me.”  
  
Jaina doesn't like thinking about Jacen, or what might have been if he hadn't become a Sith Lord and tried to take over the galaxy. “Ugh,” she groans. “First my grandfather, then my brother, and then my ex-husband. What is it about my family that attracts this need to dominate the universe?”  
  
“Just lucky, I guess. For the record, I have never attempted galactic domination, nor do I want to.” His smile is wry. “For one, it's too much work.”  
  
“You weren't a very good Sith, either. You lasted, what, a week?” Jaina knows she's the only one who can tease him about that, just as he's the only one who dares bring up her own downward slide.  
  
“You're one to talk. All you managed was some questionable behaviour. ‘I'm such a Dark Jedi! I mind-wiped a morally corrupt scientist and I used Force lightning once on some bad guys!’”  
  
She laughs out loud at his bad falsetto imitation. Only they, two survivors of the dark, dare joke about such things. It's one of the reasons they get along so well. At least when she's not feeling prickly over his… attraction.  
  
Jaina eyes him, glass in hand. He's mellowed a lot since she was briefly his apprentice, the cocky and antagonistic side fading like the grey in his hair. She remembers when he was bold and dashing and dangerous. He's still dangerous, but more honed now. Dangerous in different ways.  
  
He smirks, and something in her stomach tingles, and she thinks, “No, still dangerous the same ways.”  
  
The day he sat with her while she cried for the end of the marriage she'd pinned all her hopes on, they'd had a moment, one she had pushed away into a little box with all the other _moments_ over the years. He's loved her nearly two decades, and she's known it that long. He flirted before Jag, teasing her, making her feel things she was too young to handle. He's only spoken of his feelings once, and then only in passing.  
  
They've never brought it up, but he'd ended a fairly serious relationship with a woman who had wanted to marry him, because he'd known it was a choice between his girlfriend or _her_.  He'd never said it, but when the stupid yellow airspeeder never made a return appearance, and the woman hadn't evacuated Coruscant with them, Jaina knew.  
  
Sitting here, knowing she has his complete support, his _love_ , no longer seems scary. One unfortunate incident when she was eighteen aside--one that had ended up being for the greater good, no matter her anger at the time--Kyp had never pushed her too far, never tried to force her hand and change her into something she wasn't.  
  
He'd been the only one who cared for her when Anakin died. And when Jacen was lost, when she had, as Sword of the Jedi, been forced to kill her twin, he'd been there for her. Weeks in the medcenter, recovering from a shattered hand and a lightsaber slice across her abdomen, but more from the broken heart she'd suffered, and Kyp had come to visit her nearly every day. To talk, to listen, to tell lousy jokes or to sit with her while she screamed over the injustice of it all.  
  
And he'd never once made that move, knowing she was unready, unwilling, unable to reciprocate.  
  
His smirk slowly dies the longer she looks at him, replaced with concern, then unease. “What?” he demands finally.  
  
“I mess things up,” she says. “Friendships, relationships. Everything with Zekk was a disaster, and then Jag was even worse. Tahiri barely speaks to me. You and Tenel Ka are just about my only close friends left. She can't leave because she's family now. I'm kind of terrified that I'll do something to make you run screaming.”  
  
He shakes his head. “That is the most groundless fear you could have.”  
  
“Is it? What if you meet someone and she doesn't like you hanging out with me?”  
  
“That already happened.”  
  
“It did?”  
  
“Yeah. You said her speeder was ugly.”  
  
He stretches his arm along the back of the sofa, towards her. His fingers are almost as battered as hers, and she notices, not for the first time, that the digits are a little misshapen. From what, she doesn't know. The scars on his arms are from surgery when he was just shy of seventeen. They'd had to cut him open nearly everywhere, because the Sun Crusher hadn't had an escape pod and he'd had to break most of the bones in his body to fit into a message cylinder instead. It had nearly killed him.  
  
She traces one faded, white line that runs the length of his forearm. Her fingers, too, will never be the same as they were before Caedus pulverised her hand under his boot heel in an attempt to keep her from wielding her lightsaber against him.  
  
“What are you thinking about so hard?” he asks, his voice low.  
  
“Crucibles,” she murmurs. “Or… how they make blades the really old way, tempering steel by folding it and pounding it, over and over. I feel very tempered right now.”  
  
He catches her hand, the one Caedus had crushed, and presses their hands together, palm to palm. “Well, you're certainly battle scarred.”  
  
“So are you. How do you keep it from crippling you?”  
  
“Same way you do for the physical wounds. Keep moving. Use the muscles so they don't atrophy. Break up the scar tissue. Keep the blood moving.” He's rueful as he adds, “I had _months_ of physical therapy after they reset my bones.”  
  
She flexes her hand against his. “I thought I was going to lose the use of my hand. But I didn't.”  
  
Kyp leans over, taps a finger just below her collarbone. “Same principle here.”  
  
“Yeah?  
  
“Yeah.” Then he settles back on his end of the sofa. “Zekk’s taken, but I'm sure you'll find someone else in time.”  
  
"I haven't been interested in Zekk that way since I was seventeen. It just took _him_ way too long to realise that." She bites the inside of her cheek. The same could potentially be said of Kyp, and yet... It could be the whiskey, or just emotional fatigue, but she says, “You said I couldn't scare you away.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
“Well. There might be someone.”  
  
He's good, but not quite good enough to hide the dismay as fast as he'd probably like. The flicker of hurt that goes through his eyes makes something in her chest sting, for just a moment. “That was fast. You haven't even been divorced six months.”  
  
“No,” she says slowly. “It's actually been a really long time.”  
  
Kyp's green eyes reflect confusion. He cocks his head, an unspoken question on his handsome features. “Anyone I know?” he queries when the curiosity gets the better of him.  
  
She's better at a sabacc face than he is. She's had practise, and he's always been too open to her. “Mm. That's a distinct possibility.”  
  
He looks up and slightly to her left, black brows drawing together as he visibly thinks over who she could possibly know “a long time” that's still alive after three very brutal wars in twenty years.  
  
“Someone from Rogue Squadron?” Kyp guesses.  
  
“Someone I flew with,” she allows.  
  
He's clearly drawing a blank. Jaina considers lengthening the torment just a bit, but she's not that sadistic. She huffs out a laugh and says, “ _Stang_ , you can be dense as duracrete sometimes, Durron.”  
  
He starts to take offence, then he notices she's smiling smugly. It's clear the moment he realises, because he fumbles his glass and spills expensive whiskey on his robes.  
  
“You could have just _said_ -” he begins irritably, then stops, as it fully hits him.  
  
“Messing with you is _much_ more entertaining.” She takes a last sip of her second glass and put the tumbler down, pushing it with her fingertips so that it's out of reach. “I think I've had enough of that, even if my inclination right now is to drink myself into a stupor.”  
  
Kyp's still looking at her with an expression somewhere between shock and distrust. “When you said you're messing with me…”  
  
She sighs. “I don't want to screw up our friendship on a chance. I'm scared that … things would go the way everything else has. But…”  
  
He sets his glass down with a thunk. “But.”  
  
“I have feelings for you that are not platonic,” Jaina says, measuring every word. She's not ready for a full declaration of anything yet. “And I suppose never have been.”  
  
He's cautious, understandably so. “Okay. Are you thinking about… exploring these feelings?” He's casual, but there's a tremour of hope there, one he's obviously leery of letting grow. It's been a very long time, she knows. This isn't anything she says lightly. Not for _this_.  
  
“I am.”  
  
Kyp releases a breath and then doesn't seem to know how to react.   
  
Jaina rolls her eyes. “Dammit, Kyp, it's been seventeen years. For once, just… Stop treating me like I'm going to shatter if you make a move.”  
  
He stands, leans over, grabs her by the arm, and hauls her to her feet. She has a moment of surprise and confusion, and then he's holding her tight, his mouth covering hers.  
  
She melts into him, her body moulding to his. She forgets her anxiety, her fears and regrets, as he kisses her. His hand cradles the back of her head, and his kiss takes her breath. It's firm but gentle, hinting at power and passion but not pushing. It's everything she hoped kissing him would be, and somehow more.   
  
They separate by degrees, breath mingling as they pull apart. She feels a little unsteady, and holds him to keep her balance. There's no cockiness in him, just wonder and suffuse joy, and he smiles. It sends flutters clear to her toes.  
  
“It's late,” she breathes. “And I need to go wake the old people to let them know what's happening before they hear it from anyone else.”  
  
“I'll go roust Luke,” he volunteers, laughing a little at her description of her parents and uncle as “old people”. “You get Han and Leia.”  
  
Kyp kisses her again, lightly. She hugs him for a long moment.  
  
“I don't want to hide this. I don't care who knows or what they think,” she tells him. “I don't want secrets and lies and decoys. But just for now, just a few days, I want you to myself. I need to take this slow.”  
  
“Okay,” he agrees. “We can do that.”


	14. Sacrifice

News breaks before they've even gotten to bed that Jagged Fel, former Imperial Head of State, is now Emperor Fel, and half the broadcasts demand to know where his wife, famed Jedi Master Jaina Solo Fel, is in all of this. Surely the daughter of Leia Organa and Han Solo would never be an empress!  
  
She's honestly surprised that news of her divorce stayed under wraps this long. She watches the holonews wearily for a while, then flips it off and crashes into bed.  
  
Jaina forgets to turn off her commlink, and it begins going off incessantly. She stares at it, too muddled to move, and then the door opens, Kyp lets himself in. She's somehow _not_ surprised he has the keycode to her quarters.  
  
Without a word, he picks it up, turns it off, and shoves it in his pocket. Then he leaves. When she wakes in the morning, she finds him asleep on her sofa.  
  
Han and Leia drop by soon after, while Jaina is taking a long, hot sonic shower. When Kyp answers the door, Han merely raises a brow. Leia is a little more direct.  
  
“You're here early,” she says.  
  
Kyp scratches a hand through still-mostly-dark curls.  “I've been keeping an eye on her communicator and pondering damage control.”  
  
They've already discussed what to do about Emperor Fel, and decided, for the moment, to do nothing. But Jaina needs to make a statement, and Leia is there to help her come up with one. Allana is in class at this hour, and won't join them until later.  
  
Jaina emerges from the refresher. Kyp has gone, though his commlink and datapad still lay on her dining table. Han is in her kitchen area, making breakfast. Leia sits on the sofa, drafting a statement on her own datapad.  
  
Standing in bare feet, a tunic and leggings, Jaina asks, “Is this really happening? Or am I just having a particularly strange bad dream?”  
  
Han has made scrambled eggs, with cheese made from blue milk, and he brings a platter to the table. He sets out four plates. Leia doesn't comment on that, and when Kyp comes in, showered and in fresh robes, not a word is said about it.  
  
“I've got a basic statement,” Leia tells her daughter. “It says that you and Jag separated earlier this year, that you remain dedicated to the Jedi and the Galactic Alliance, and that you have, at this time, no involvement in, knowledge of, or comment on these events.”  
  
Jaina pokes her eggs with a fork. “That sounds good to me. Can I just… Never leave here and hide for the rest of my life? I don't want reporters following me around again.”  
  
Kyp, who has been quiet until now, says, “I can fry their cameras or something, from the inside.”  
  
Jaina grins briefly. “That would be fun. But only as a last resort.”  
  
When they're finished eating, Kyp clears the table. Han leans back in his chair and asks, “How long you two been seeing each other?”  
  
Jaina pauses with her mug of caf almost to her mouth. Her eyes dart to Kyp, who has set the dishes down and is leaning with his back to the sink, hands braced on the counter, looking back at her. His face says it's up to her.  
  
“Uh. What makes you ask?” she inquires, and Kyp makes a face at her obvious stall.  
  
Han gives her his best “don't try that with me, I'm not an idiot” look.  
  
Jaina doesn't take her eyes off Kyp as she asks, “Officially or unofficially?”  
  
Han makes a noise in the back of his throat that's hard to describe. “Officially, Jaina. You two have been ‘unofficial’ for as long as Ben’s been alive.”  
  
It's an echo of her conversation with Kyp on the day she told him she was divorced as she says, “Officially, yesterday.”  
  
Leia looks between them, sighs, and takes a sip of her caf. Han looks smug.  
  
Kyp relaxes and turns back to the dishes.  
  
“We weren't going to say anything for a bit,” Jaina admits. “Wait to let the … drama blow over. I don't want anyone thinking Kyp had anything to do with my leaving Jag.”  
  
"Which I definitely didn't," he says. "Part of me wishes I had."  
  
"More specifically, I don't want _Jag_ thinking Kyp had a hand in it, because he just might call for his head," Jaina continues. "He pretended he wasn't serious about getting Daala to extradite Kyp to Bastion for Carida, but . . . He's always been jealous. I don't know what he'd do if . . ."  
  
Kyp comes back to the table and when he does, he shifts his chair a little closer to her. He takes her hand, and Leia watches him do it. She is clearly trying to decide if this development is good or bad. Then again, in recent years her only objection has been their age difference, and really, at this point, Kyp is a better choice for her daughter than a man who just declared himself emperor.  
  
Jaina looks up at him, suddenly no longer guilty that he broke Thelia Brandt's heart for her. She can't imagine what it would be like if Kyp had married the woman, if she left Jag and found that this man she has loved in one way or another since the age of eighteen couldn't be here.  
  
The thought turns her stomach as much as learning of Jag's new role.  
  
Leia drags her eyes from their clasped hands and says, "I know that you don't want to hide your relationship, especially after the lengths you had to go to for a while with Jag, but I think that keeping it private _for now_ would be best. You don't want the attention, and this would be . . . what's that phrase Ackbar used, Han, about bait?"  
  
"Chumming the waters," her husband says. "Tossing bloody meat into the water to attract sharks."  
  
Jaina searches Kyp's face. "I'm not ashamed," she assures him. "But I don't want being with you to cause problems. We don't need the press stalking us, especially right now, and we also don't need the new emperor getting it into his head that he needs to come after you."  
  
"I'm not thrilled, but I agree," he says.   
  
“So, for now, only the four of us know,” Jaina sighs.  
  
“And Luke,” Han says.  
  
Kyp raises a brow.  
  
“As much as you think so, Kyp, Luke ain't an idiot.”  
  
“I don't think he's an idiot. I just don't agree with him on a few things. Whether we have the same views or not, I have nothing but respect for Master Skywalker.”  
  
Jaina stands, suddenly needing to move, and she trails her fingers over Kyp's shoulders as she goes by. It's the most natural thing in the universe, and she wonders why it took her so long to see it.  
  
“They're going to blame this on the Jedi,” she says. “Everything is always our fault.”  
  
Kyp reaches out, grabs her wrist. He draws her back. "Not if he doesn't find out until he's . . . calmed down."  
  
She looks at their hands, her small one in his large one. "I don't want to keep it secret. I'm so kriffing tired of that. But we have to, and it's not fair."  
  
"Just for a little while, Goddess," he says. "I'm okay with that."  
  
His gaze is steady on hers, full of the love neither of them have declared. This isn't how she wanted things to start between them. But for the moment, they have no choice.


	15. Listen

After the council meeting, Kyp goes back to his quarters. He still has the reports Luke wanted him to read, and he figures it would be best if he not distract Jaina while she gives her statement.  
  
It irritates him that this mess with Jag has happened, but he knows deep down that _Emperor Fel_ would never have gone away quietly. Kyp hates how upset Jaina is over it. Her pain was supposed to stop when she left the guy, but her ex still manages to make her life difficult.  
  
He's trying not to think about how his relationship with Jaina has changed. It doesn't seem real, and he's afraid that he's going to wake any moment, find himself asleep with his head on his desk, and it will have been a very strange dream.  
  
There is a chime at his door, and he says, “Enter”. He's stared at the same chart for ten minutes now, making neither heads nor tails of it, and he realises he's more distracted than Jaina would be.  
  
The door opens and Leia comes in. He'd been expecting Han, not his wife, and he has a second of fear. There is one person in the galaxy that intimidates him, and that is Leia Solo.  
  
He sets the datapad down as she enters. Dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, both a dusty blue-purple, she takes the chair opposite him at his desk. For a moment, she doesn't speak, just looks around his office.  
  
She's letting him sweat, and they both know it.  
  
Since he knows better than to potentially mouth off to Leia, he waits.  
  
When she speaks, it's with a tinge of amusement. She knows she scares him. “I'll get straight to the point. You and Jaina.”  
  
“You told me on Hapes that if I hurt her, I'd be safer with the Vong,” he says softly.  
  
Her brown eyes widen just a little. “You remember.”  
  
“Of course I remember. I've lived my life by that ever since.” He rests his elbows on the desk, laces his fingers together.  
  
“Well, there go all my prepared threats.”  
  
They both smile, and Kyp realises that while Leia might not be _fond_ of him, she no longer despises him.  
  
He says, “As far as I'm concerned, Jaina is calling the shots right now, and I'm going to let her. I'd cut my own arm off with a spoon before I hurt her. I'm here to be what she needs when she needs it.”  
  
“That's very selfless of you.”  
  
“That's love.” There, he's admitted it aloud. He loves Jaina.  
  
“I'm glad to hear it.” Then, “Why a spoon?”  
  
“Because it's dull. It'd hurt more.”  
  
Leia chuckles. After a moment, her expression turns serious. “I'm worried about her. That she'll do something rash and stupid.”  
  
“What, like start dating me?”  
  
“No. I don't know what, just… Something.”  
  
Kyp nods. “I am, too. But Jaina is an adult and very headstrong. Best I can hope for is to try to direct the energy towards something more …”  
  
“Productive?”  
  
“That general direction, yeah.”  
  
Leia says, “I never approved. But I admit that I am not perfect, and I am _very_ protective of my daughter. I misjudged who you are, as if you're still sixteen.”  
  
He rolls his shoulders. He knows what everyone thinks of him. He's spent over three decades trying to make up for Carida. “I love her, Leia. She will only get the best from me, for as long as I can manage that, because that's what she deserves.”  
  
Her smile is wry. “I should have given the threatening mother speech to Jag, not you.”  
  
“Or both of us. Realistically, he seemed like the more responsible, stable one,” he admits. “We couldn't have known this would happen.”  
  
Leia rises. “I should go before Jaina catches me in here.”  
  
“You're welcome to talk any time, Leia,” he says.  
  
“You really have matured, haven't you?”  
  
He smirks. “There's no need to be insulting.”  
  
She laughs, and leaves without another word.


	16. Secret

Jaina spent years keeping her relationship with her ex-husband out of the public eye, even if it was fairly common knowledge.  
  
Having to keep Kyp a complete secret chafes. He doesn't deserve that, and it's all because of Jag.  
  
To help them out, give them an excuse to be together without anyone asking questions, Luke assigns them to be partners in charge of the Temple's StealthX wing. It's traditionally been under Kyp's oversight, but Jaina used to fly with him, used to fly with Rogue Squadron, and no one thinks anything of the change.  
  
She's examining their contingent of StealthX fighters, looking for any repairs that need to be made, when he joins her.  
  
"Master Solo," he says.  
  
"Master Durron."  
  
They grin at each other. Then her smile falters.  
  
"Don't," he says gently. "It'll be okay."  
  
"How do you always know what I'm thinking?" she asks.  
  
"I know you."  
  
Jaina raps her knuckles on the plasteel hull of the fighter she's examining. She has to use a ladder because she's so short. Kyp can reach up and touch the bottom without any aid, and when he does so, she sticks her tongue out at him.  
  
"Jaina," he says. "If it helps prevent Jag from starting a war, I'm willing to be your dirty little secret."  
  
She gestures to her mechanic's jumpsuit, which is covered with grease, and says, "If anything, Durron, I'm _your_ 'dirty little secret'."  
  
Kyp laughs. "Point taken."  
  
"I mean, really, you were thirty-two, hitting on an eighteen-year-old," she continues.  
  
He makes a face. "Yeah, yeah, I know how questionable that was."  
  
She hops down from the ladder. They're the only ones in the hangar except for a mouse droid. "Of course, I'm not eighteen anymore . . ."  
  
Kyp backs her into the ladder, bracing one hand on it above her shoulder. "That is very true."  
  
He leans in to kiss her.  
  
His commlink goes off.  
  
He thunks his head against the ladder, a particularly profane expletive on his lips.  
  
She's laughing at him when hers goes off.  
  
"Later," she promises.  
  
"I'll hold you to that."  
  
"You can hold me to anything you want."  
  
"I will keep that in mind."


	17. Stars

Keeping their relationship hidden means they can't have a normal courtship... not that they ever have, anyway. It becomes their custom to wait until everyone else has retired before they meet. Jaina feels a bit like a teenager again, the teenager she never really got to be. While not being able to talk about it is a strain, the sneaking around part is actually kind of fun.  
  
Tonight, Kyp has found a secluded spot outside the Temple, and he's brought along a crate and a blanket. Jaina aims her glowlamp at the ground so they don't trip as they make their way through the dark.  
  
It's a clearing, with a gorgeous view of the night sky, where Kyp declares they'll have their picnic.  
  
"A picnic, huh?" she asks.  
  
"We've only ever had one, and it was horrible," he says. "I demand a do-over."  
  
Jaina laughs. "Okay. I'll agree to that. As long as the alcohol is better."  
  
"Of course it is."  
  
Kyp spreads the blanket out, pulls a bottle of wine and two glasses from the crate. The moonlight and stars are bright enough to light the clearing almost to dusk levels, plenty of light by which to crack open the bottle and see to pour.  
  
Jaina settles on the blanket and accepts the glass he hands her. "Since this is a do-over, I propose the following: No secrets between us. No lies. We're both on the Council, so we don't need to keep any of that away from each other. We're partners, and whatever else comes after that. No one gets between us."  
  
He holds his glass up. "No agendas we don't share. With the exception of lifeday surprises and the like."  
  
She grins. "Okay, I'll give you that one."  
  
"Partners," he agrees. "Together, or not at all."  
  
They clink glasses, and sip at the wine. Kyp puts the opened bottle back in the crate so it doesn't get knocked over, and pulls Jaina into his lap. She leans back against his chest and looks up at the sky. The Hapes Consortium exists in the Transitory Mists, so the night sky isn't black with white specks of starlight. It's dark, certainly, but the sky above them has faint blues, purples, greens, and reds: distant gases of a long-vanished nebula, not dense enough to harm the inhabitants, but enough to cloak the Consortium from the rest of the galaxy.  
  
"That one right there," Kyp says, pointing to a bright object just above the trees, "is Gallinore. And the reddish one over _there_ is Hapes."  
  
Technically, it's their stars, not the planets themselves, but Jaina knows what he means. "You study astronomy or something?" she asks.  
  
"Nah. I looked it up on my datapad before we came out here."  
  
She snickers.  
  
"You can't see the core from here," he says, "the Mists are too dense for the light to make it."  
  
"Mm. I've been to so many planets. Sometimes I forget to appreciate the galaxy for itself. Can't see the forest for the trees, and all that."  
  
She turns her head a little, studying his profile against the night sky. "When I was younger..."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I was convinced I was going to die. I wasn't going to make it through the war with the Yuuzhan Vong. I told myself that I couldn't get involved with you because my death would hurt you."  
  
He turns to look at her, her face faintly illuminated by one of Shedu Maad's three moons. Only one is up, the other two won't rise until after dawn. "Is that why?"  
  
"And then, when I survived, Jacen asked me what I planned to do about you now that I wasn't dead. I don't know how he knew what I'd been thinking. I never told him. I said I didn't know, and then said that I'd thought about falling for you, but it wasn't a bright idea to fall in love with your mentor. I kept telling myself, over and over, that I didn't want this. Even up to when I married Jag, I was telling myself you were just my friend."  
  
Kyp brings a hand up, strokes the side of her face. "I kept telling myself I'd only wanted you because I was lonely. I told myself that for thirteen years. I finally accepted it when I broke things off with Thelia, but I figured you'd never be mine."  
  
"Is that why you shaved your head?" she asks with a snicker.  
  
His grin is a flash of teeth in the moonlight. "One of them."  
  
Jaina twists to straddle his lap, then sits between his legs with her own around him. She threads her fingers through his hair. "Your hair has always reminded me of starlight," she says after a minute. "Bits of light in the dark."  
  
"So you don't mind the grey?"  
  
"Please. My ex has white in his. Why would I mind? It's _hair_."  
  
"Good to hear, because it's only going to get worse."  
  
"Wanna hear a secret?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I've got a few of my own. They appeared after . . . after Jacen. I just pull them out when I find them."  
  
He snickers. "Really? That means _you_ started going grey at thirty-three, too!"  
  
"It's only two, and they're on my left temple."  
  
Jaina rubs his cheek with the pad of her thumb, wanting to memorise his face by feel, since she knows the look of him by heart. She wants to say the words, but she isn't quite ready yet. This isn't the right time.  
  
"Oh, look!"  
  
Kyp points up, and Jaina cranes her neck to watch a meteor shower blaze overhead.  
  
"I know it's debris burning up in the atmosphere," she says, "but it's so pretty."  
  
"You're supposed to wish on those," he tells her.  
  
"What would I wish for? I have everything I want."  
  
He pulls her close, and his mouth finds hers in the dark. As he kisses her, she amends, _Almost everything. But soon._


	18. Love

He's up late again, going over the squadron rosters, when Jaina lets herself into his office. She watches him compare lists on two separate datapads, so engrossed in the task that he doesn't look up. He's undoubtedly noticed her, he's Kyp Durron and he's really difficult to sneak up on, but he's busy.  
  
Jaina lets the door slide shut behind her, and just studies him. He's got the desk lamp on this time, illuminating the silver in his dark hair. It's pulled back, out of his way, leaving the lines of his face exposed.  
  
She wonders, as she crosses to the desk, when it was she fell in love with him. Was it when she was nineteen, and his feelings for her terrified her so much she ran into Jag's arms? Was it after that? She doesn't know, can't pinpoint a moment. He's just always been there, always been her best friend.  
  
Taking a seat in the chair opposite him, she drops her head to rest on her hands, folded on his desk. Even knowing him as well as she does, it's still a little surprising how serious and dedicated he is in his work. He's got a sharp mind behind those dark, green-brown eyes, though most discount it because of his outward attitude and reputation.  
  
She loves him. She can admit it without hesitation now, quietly watching him work. He's been friend, antagonist, and teacher to her at different times, but now he's more than that. He's her partner, and someday, her lover.  
  
The thought makes her smile.  
  
"What?" he asks, finally looking at her.  
  
"Just thinking. It's nothing. Remembering something. So. I know we should probably head two different squadrons, spread our expertise out, but . . . I'd prefer to be co-leads."  
  
Kyp nods and makes a final notation. "I think Octa can lead the other squadron," he says. "She's experienced and has a good head on her shoulders."  
  
"She flew with your Dozen, didn't she?"  
  
"And abandoned it after Coruscant," he confirms. "Had some really harsh words for me, but that's in the past."  
  
Jaina studies his face. "You two weren't ever . . .?"  
  
Kyp snorts. "Me and Octa? Not in the slightest. I made it a policy not to get involved with my pilots. And I didn't date anyone seriously until Thelia. Plus, Octa was Miko's. She's never gotten over him."  
  
"Hmm." She straightens, splays her hands on the smooth wooden surface of the desk. "I just had Jag, pretty much. Well. Zekk. But that was . . . I _think_ he and I had a thing going when we were bug people, but my memories are kind of hazy."  
  
He shakes his head. "I had the hardest time talking the Council into going after you guys, even though you were AWOL."  
  
"You're the one that got us out?" she asks, surprised.  
  
"You vanished," he says. "Of course I was worried. I wanted to go looking, but Luke wouldn't let me. Maybe he was afraid I'd start a war if I couldn't find you."  
  
She smiles wryly. "He should have. You have a history of dragging me back when I stray too far."  
  
"And I've been doing it since you were almost three, and we went skiing on Coruscant and you nearly wandered off a cliff," he reminds her, turning his attention to storing the datapads in his desk drawer. "Which some might find creepy, but I've never been your brother, or even your uncle."  
  
"Yeah, being in love with a relation is all kinds of wrong."  
  
Kyp closes his fingers in the drawer and swears. Then he looks up, expression hesitant.  
  
"You heard me correctly," she assures him. "I wouldn't joke about that. I love you."  
  
He smiles. "Not how I was expecting to hear it." _Hoping to hear it_ is what goes unspoken.  
  
"I know."  
  
She stands, moving around the desk. As she does, she remembers all the times she used to sit in Jag's lap. But she can't let her ex taint everything, can't avoid everything she did with him because then she'd have nothing left. Better to make new memories.  
  
Kyp draws her into his arms, into his lap, and she loops her arms around his neck. "I love you," he tells her softly. "Force, I've waited so long to say that."  
  
"I'm sorry I made you wait," she whispers.  
  
"I'd wait forever for you."  
  
Jaina kisses his chin, then his mouth. "You shouldn't have had to. Why is it that I was able to kill my own twin, but I couldn't make myself admit that I love you?"  
  
"Because you grew up learning how to walk into the fire for someone else, but you never learned to save yourself."  
  
She arches both brows. "That's very profound, Master Durron."  
  
"I do occasionally manage to justify my title," he says wryly.  
  
"Mm. Occasionally." She shifts and rests her head on his shoulder, her face against his neck. "It's nice to say it. I love you."  
  
"You can say it as often as you'd like. I certainly won't object."  
  
Her commlink chirps. Jaina fishes it out. "Master Solo."  
  
"Jaina?" It's Allana, and her niece sounds very young. "Can you come? I had a nightmare."  
  
"I'll be right there, sweetheart." Jaina closes the call and puts the commlink away. "Duty calls. I'll be glad when my parents get back from wherever they've gone. I don't have enough experience with kids."  
  
Kyp runs his hand down her arm. "Speaking of . . ."  
  
She flushes. "That is a conversation that will need to wait."  
  
His laugh, soft and deep, follows her out into the hallway.


	19. Mistake

Allana has a history of having visions, so the family--and the Jedi in general, knowing her identity as the future queen of not only Hapes but of the Order--takes her dreams seriously. This one, fortunately, is just a simple bad dream, a recall to a camping trip Jaina had taken with Tenel Ka and Allana the year before and some poachers had injured Anji.  
  
Still, she brings Allana to her quarters and tucks her into bed so that she has family close to comfort her. Jaina remembers all too well the time separated from her mother as a child, half-raised by Winter Celchu because of constant kidnapping attempts or death threats. She knows what it's like for Allana to be away from her mother, though Jaina's separation from Leia was never this long, and she had her brothers at the time.  
  
"Did I wake you?" Allana asks, as Jaina slips under the covers. Anji sprawls across the foot of the bed, four eyes blinking sleepily, a rumble Jaina assumes is a purr emerging from the massive animal.  
  
"When?"  
  
"When I commed you."  
  
Jaina shakes her head. "Nope."  
  
"But it's the middle of the night."  
  
"I was talking to Kyp."  
  
Allana's grey eyes narrow in a way Jaina remembers Jacen doing, and for once, her niece's resemblance to her father doesn't cause a pang of grief. "In the middle of the night? Are you guys _dating_?"  
  
Jaina grins. "Remember how we couldn't tell anyone who you were, and you were Amelia? Well, this needs to be the same kind of secret for a while, because . . . Jag and I didn't have a good break-up, and he doesn't like Kyp much."  
  
"You guys got divorced, though. Why would he be mad if you start dating? You're not married anymore."  
  
"Because Jag isn't rational when it comes to Kyp. Yes, Kyp and I are seeing each other. I guess he's my boyfriend." That seems really silly to say now. When she was nineteen and he was thirty-three, sure, but she's thirty-six and he's fifty. "You know that Jag is Emperor Fel now, right?"  
  
Allana nods.  
  
"Well, as Emperor Fel, if Jag thinks that I broke up with him so I could be with Kyp, he might get mad enough to . . . make a mistake like come after the Jedi."  
  
A mistake would be an understatement. Colossal blunder is more accurate.  
  
"Why would he do that?"  
  
"Because Jag already asked Chief of State Daala once to extradite Kyp to the Empire because of something Kyp did when he was a little younger than Ben."  
  
The girl nods. "Master Durron said that he did some bad things when he was young and people don't like him for it."  
  
"When did he tell you that?"  
  
She shrugs. "Last month? I talked to him and he said he did bad things and Grandpa helped him. And he said he loves you."  
  
Jaina smiles. She can't help it. These days, when she thinks of Kyp, it's with a broad grin and a flutter in her stomach. "I love him."  
  
"Finally! Are you gonna get married?"  
  
She laughs. "Maybe. We haven't talked about it. We've only been together a few weeks."  
  
"Did I help?"  
  
Jaina ruffles her niece's hair. "You sure did, kiddo. Now go to sleep. You have classes tomorrow. You may be the future queen, but you also have a quiz in Tionne's class."  
  
Anji shifts to settle her big head on Allana's feet with a _whump_ and a contented growl. Jaina rolls to turn the lamp off. As she does, she sees a message on her datapad from Kyp.  
  
 _Love you, Goddess. K._  
  
She goes to sleep with a smile on her face.


	20. Wish

She finds Tahiri doing stretches in the workout room. Tahiri had a growth spurt around eighteen and now towers over Jaina, or so it seems. The younger woman is lithe, muscled, and Jaina is hard-pressed to see the little blonde sprite her brother fell in love with.  
  
Tahiri's got her gold curls tied back as she sits on the floor, reaching for her toes. She looks up when Jaina enters, light green eyes welcoming. Jaina wonders briefly if green eyes are a genetic thing that goes with being a Jedi, or if her family just sort of attracts them. Mara, Tahiri, Jag, Zekk, Kyp. Okay, Jag isn't a Jedi, but he was family for a while.  
  
"Want a sparring partner?" Jaina asks.  
  
"Sure." Tahiri seems to bounce to her feet, and in her grin, too long absent, is the girl Anakin adored. "Though I'm a bit outmatched against the Sword of the Jedi."  
  
Jaina rolls her eyes. "Says the Imperial Hand."  
  
As she removes her shoes and steps onto the practise mat, Jaina reflects that there _is_ something she'd wish for on a shooting star: that Tahiri find happiness and love, like Jaina has with Kyp. She misses her brother, too, but Anakin has been gone nearly twenty years.  
  
They spar for several minutes. Though Tahiri's got a height advantage, Jaina trained in hand-to-hand with Mara Jade and with Mandalorians. Her friend's assessment is right: even as the Imperial Hand, Tahiri isn't up to Jaina's level.  
  
Tahiri doesn't move like the other Jedi. She's half Yuuzhan Vong, after her imprisonment and shaping, and fights in a hybrid style that reminds Jaina uncomfortably of Jacen. That, too, is a mostly-healed wound. Jacen hurt them both when he fell, and sometimes she thinks Tahiri got the worse treatment.  
  
"Can I ask you something?" Jaina inquires, as they end the spar session.  
  
The blonde nods, lowering to sit on the mat. Jaina copies her after a moment.  
  
"I watched some of the trial," Jaina says, referring to Tahiri's murder trial for the death of Gilad Pellaeon while she was the apprentice of Darth Caedus. "I couldn't always. And I wanted to be there."  
  
"That's okay. I know you were really busy trying to keep Abeloth from killing us all."  
  
That and distracted by her love life, but Jaina won't admit that.  
  
"They asked if you'd, uh . . ."  
  
"Did I sleep with Jacen?" Tahiri asks quietly. "That's what you want to know, isn't it?"  
  
"I just . . . know he manipulated you into things. I wondered if that . . . was one of them."  
  
Tahiri sighs. "I went willingly," she says at last. "He was manipulating me about saving Anakin, but not about . . . that. And it wasn't until after he and Tenel Ka broke up, after he kidnapped Allana. I wouldn't never have . . ."  
  
"I'm not judging. I know Jacen was a monster, but I'm glad that it didn't extend to _that_."  
  
"I'd have killed him in his sleep if he'd done that to me," Tahiri tells her bluntly.  
  
Jaina calls water bottles over for both of them, and cracks hers open. "I'd have held him down if he had."  
  
After a moment, Tahiri snorts softly. "We're a mess. Here I am, I've been involved with _both_ of your brothers, who are now dead . . . You went dark after Anakin died. Why didn't you after you killed Jacen?"  
  
Looking down at her hand, the one Jacen smashed, Jaina says, "Because I did after Anakin. Because I knew how not to the second time. Because people cared more the second time than they did the first."  
  
"You had Jag, after Jacen. You weren't in a relationship after Anakin's death. He was good for you."  
  
"That's part of it. Being older helped. But also . . ." She hesitates, knowing that she can't tell Tahiri everything. Her friend still thinks Jag hung the moon, and Jaina doesn't. "Because . . . Anakin's death was a sudden shock, and Jacen's death I planned."  
  
They're both quiet for a long time. Then Jaina says, "If I could make a wish, and have that one thing come true? The Yuuzhan Vong would never have come to our galaxy. No one would have died. Jacen wouldn't have fallen. Raynar wouldn't have become what he did."  
  
She likely would have never met Jag because they wouldn't have emerged from Chiss space to fight the Vong. And Kyp . . . She probably would have ended up with Kyp ten years sooner, at least, because there had been something there all along, since she was sixteen and had run into him at the academy. She just hadn't seen it until now. Had he?  
  
"Yeah, that's a good wish. Too bad we can't change the past, huh?" Tahiri gets to her feet, more gracefully than Jaina might have at that moment, and stretches her arms behind her head. "I'm gonna hit the showers. I'll see you later."  
  
Jaina nods, watches her go towards the locker rooms. She wants to tell her about Kyp, but now isn't the time.  
  
She wonders if Tahiri will ever understand.


	21. Embrace

When Han and Leia return from visiting Lando Calrissian and his family, Jaina invites them to have dinner with her and Kyp in her quarters. It's a simple thing, the two couples and little Allana, who isn't quite as little as Han's used to.  
  
He tells stories throughout dinner, and they laugh at exploits new and old. All the while, he watches his daughter with Kyp. Not even two years ago, he sat with Kyp while the younger man cried over Jaina's marriage to someone else, and tonight, the two are all smiles.  
  
Han hasn't seen Jaina this happy since . . . Well, since her wedding day, really. He had never really approved of the Fel kid, had wanted to pound the snot's face in on more than one occasion. There had been a few times where he'd been tempted to take a swing at Kyp, too, but Kyp learned from his mistakes. Jag hadn't seemed to.  
  
Now, as Kyp refills Jaina's glass with Hapan wine, the younger man is the polar opposite of that broken one Han had sat drinking with. The affection that he's always known Kyp's felt for Jaina is on full display, and she seems to return it completely. It's almost enough to make him uncomfortable, because there's a clear tension there of a nature that should make _any_ protective father bristle.  
  
When they clear the table, Kyp follows Jaina to the small kitchen area. Han purposely puts his back to them, talking to Allana about her studies. He understands little of it, since he's not Force-sensitive, but his granddaughter is enthusiastic.  
  
Leia catches his gaze and jerks her head slightly. Han looks over his shoulder to see Kyp with his arms around Jaina. Jaina's leaning into him, and she looks more at peace than Han has ever seen. Any tiny, lingering doubts Han may have vanish.  
  
He looks to his wife, and Leia nods slightly. He knows Leia's never really liked Kyp. But if he can bring their daughter peace, she's apparently willing to accept him.  
  
Han wants Jaina happy. More than anything, he wants that for his only remaining child. He was willing to accept Jag as a son-in-law if it was what made Jaina happy, but as he'd feared, it hadn't worked out. Though, he reflects, it ended less violently than he'd expected.  
  
He also wants Kyp to be happy. He saw firsthand the hell Kyp grew up in, saw the kid at his worst. If the two of them have found it in each other, so much the better.  
  
Leia leans over, rests her chin on his shoulder, speaking low so only he can hear. "I think we're going to have another wedding before the year is out."  
  
"You think?" Han glances Jaina's way again, sees how she beams at Kyp. "Yeah. I think you're right."


	22. Kiss

They've been together for a few weeks, but Kyp still has moments where he has difficulty believing it. Part of him thinks he just isn't this lucky, so he must be hallucinating. Maybe he's had a head injury and is in a coma, dreaming it all.  
  
They're in the hangar, looking over the ships, noting repairs that need to be made and parts that need to be ordered from Incom. He's competent at repairs, in a pinch, but he's never been as mechanically inclined as Jaina. It's fun to watch her work, as he takes notes on a datapad. It's been a long time since he's seen her this enthusiastic about ship repairs. For a while, several years, in fact, she pretty much stopped working on ships entirely. Became someone else.  
  
He feels like the old Jaina is back, at long last.  
  
She looks over at him, sees him watching her. "What?" she asks. "Do I have grease on my face?"  
  
"Nope." Kyp grins. "Just thinking about how much I love you."  
  
She blushes prettily. "I'm grimy from digging around in ship guts, and you're getting all moon-eyed. You're really weird, Durron."  
  
He laughs. "You're happy. That makes _me_ happy."  
  
Jaina hops down from the ladder and pulls him behind the nearest stack of supply containers. She drags his head down and stretches up, kissing him. He revels in the feel of her in his arms, her mouth against his. Kissing her is a privilege he definitely doesn't take for granted. Each one is cherished.  
  
When she pulls back, bouncing a little with a sly grin, he says, "As much as I love kissing you... I _am_ interested in going beyond that."  
  
She wrinkles her nose. "Yeah. I... I'm not saying I'm not, because I am. I'm just not ready yet."  
  
He presses his lips to her forehead. "I want to make love with you. But I'll wait as long as you need."  
  
She sighs, as if releasing a held breath. "Thanks. Is it stupid of me?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
There's a clang from near the door, and Jaina hops backwards, out of his arms. He gives it a moment, then comes back with the hydrospanner she left on a box when she grabbed him.  
  
"Found it," he says aloud, seeing that it's Octa come to check on her fighter. "Stop throwing tools at my head, Solo."  
  
Jaina snatches the hydrospanner and narrows her eyes at him. He grins.  
  
As Octa passes them, she smirks and winks. Jaina doesn't notice, but he does.  
  
He wonders how many others they're not fooling, and how fast this is going to get out.


	23. Nocturnal

Jaina has a late meeting with her uncle about Allana's progress and the royal tutor from Hapes wanting more of Allana's time and less Jedi training. Jaina wants to punch the woman, knows she can't.  
  
She already running late to meet Kyp when she rounds a corner and runs head-on into Tahiri, who's going the other direction. "Oh, sorry. I really need to watch where I'm going."  
  
Tahiri arches a gold brow. "You're up late. Becoming a habit, huh?"  
  
"Meeting with Master Skywalker," Jaina sighs. "Allana's tutor doesn't see the benefit of Jedi training if Allana is going to be Queen Mother someday. Tenel Ka, after all, left the Order, so the tutor assumes Allana will never join it."  
  
The younger woman shakes her head, blonde curls bouncing. "What does Tenel Ka say about all this?"  
  
"I haven't talked to her about it yet. The tutor submitted her petition to withdraw Allana and take her back to Hapes just this afternoon. If she really thinks she's going to do this, she doesn't realise who she's dealing with."  
  
Tahiri grins. "I think you should go talk to Tenel Ka in person. Take the kid with you. Hey, I could go with and we could make a girls' trip out of it!"  
  
In the back of her mind, Jaina feels Kyp probe for her attention, wondering where she is. She nudges him back, then senses him deciding to come find her.  
  
"That sounds great," Jaina admits. "I'm not one for getting pampered, but it'd be nice to get my hair trimmed, maybe shop for some new boots."  
  
"Excellent." Tahiri nods. "You'll contact Tenel Ka and set things up?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Kyp appears around the corner, dressed more casually than in his robes. He sees Tahiri and the flicker of irritation on his face subsides. "Master Solo, Jedi Veila," he says.  
  
Jaina snorts. "No need for formality, Kyp. Besides, when do you ever go for it, anyway?"  
  
He smirks, nods at Tahiri. "I try occasionally," he says. "You ladies are up late. Conspiring something?"  
  
"Girls' trip," Tahiri says. She looks between them speculatively, green eyes narrowed a little. "Well, I'm feeling ravenous enough to eat a whole eopie, so I'm off to the cafeteria. Try not to murder Allana's tutor before you talk to Tenel Ka."  
  
"I'll try to exercise restraint," Jaina says dryly.  
  
Tahiri waves and heads off down the corridor. Jaina waits until she's out of earshot, then whispers, "I think she suspects."  
  
"Yeah? Octa _knows_. I don't know how much longer we're going to be able to keep this under wraps."  
  
Jaina sighs. "I don't _want_ to be hiding in the first place. And how long do we have to, anyway? Weeks? Months? Years?"  
  
"I dunno, Goddess. But the novelty of being secretive is starting to wear off."  
  
"It's gotta be soon. We can't let Jag dictate our lives. He did that already on Borleias." Her jaw clenches. "He's had enough control over me. I'll give it a few more weeks, then tell him."  
  
Kyp nods. They fall into step as they head towards his quarters. "So what is this about murdering Allana's tutor?"  
  
Jaina explains the situation. "So I'm going to have to talk to Tenel Ka about it. It falls to me as both her aunt and her master."  
  
"Talk to the tutor first."  
  
"I tried. She's scared of me."  
  
Kyp snickers. Jaina jabs him in the stomach.  
  
"What's so funny?" she demands.  
  
"Dangerous things come in small packages."  
  
"Oh, shut up."


	24. Advice

“You're not going to wait fifteen years to marry Kyp, are you?” Han asks his daughter.  
  
They're fiddling with the guts of the _Falcon_ , tracking down a coolant leak. Jaina, dressed in a jumpsuit and covered in various mechanical lubricants, twists around to look at him.  
  
He sees her and still, in his head she's the little toddler who would come running, crying, “Daddy!”  
  
She's not a toddler anymore. She's a grown woman, and it pains him that she's had to fight so many battles that he couldn't be a part of.  
  
Like her divorce six months ago. That one had lasted about as long as he'd guessed it would, imploding just over a year after it had begun. He's not happy that it happened, because he's her father and he wants her to be happy. But he's relieved, because he never fully trusted that Hutt-spawn she was so crazy about.  
  
The end of her marriage was something he didn't know how to deal with, so he'd done the best he could: he'd called in reinforcements in the form of Kyp Durron, Jaina's best friend and the guy madly in love with her.  
  
Seems she's seen the light, because they've been together nearly two months, and his little girl is happier than he's ever seen her.  
  
Jaina blushes at his question and tries to cover it with irritation. “What makes you think I'm going to marry him?”  
  
Han just rolled his eyes.  
  
She sets down her Harris wrench and fidgets. Just when he thinks he's going to have to prod her into talking, she asks, on a rush of breath, “I know you didn't really like Jag, and I get why. You seemed to see more than I could, because I was so blinded by…”  
  
He slowly lowers his hydrospanner from the panel he's taking off. “What's on your mind, honey?”  
  
“I don't want anything to go wrong with Kyp,” she says softly. “Everything else has, and… I love him, Dad. I think more than I loved Jag. And I'm scared that I'll do something and-”  
  
“No,” he says, cutting her off. “Jaina, listen to me. Yeah, you loved Jag. And yeah, that didn't work out. But not because you screwed up. His family's honour and his loyalty to the Empire were more important to him than you, and that's not your fault. That's his. He didn't appreciate you the way he should have. That's on him. And that Zekk punk? He was only thinking about himself. I'm glad he got over that and settled down.”  
  
“But about Kyp,” she urges.  
  
He sighs. “Jaina, sweetheart, you've done just about everything you _could_ do to break that man's heart, up to and including marrying someone else. And he's still as crazy in love with you as he was when you were nineteen. Yeah, I know he had that Brandt woman for a while, but even a headless monk could see how much Kyp loves you.”  
  
She shakes her head. "It's too early to think of marriage."  
  
"It's been seventeen years."  
  
". . . Okay, then, yes, I'm going to. I just don't know when."  
  
"Make it soon. Your mother wants more grandkids before I die."  
  
"Dad!"


	25. Tonight

Jaina walks down the corridor, stepping to the side as a group of younglings runs by, all of them giggling. They aren't much older than six or seven. She thinks of her father's words just hours ago, and smiles.  
  
She feels a little disturbance, just a ripple of power, and looks up to see Kyp headed her way. He's talking animatedly with Master Cilghal, but he glances Jaina's way, and she feels it like a physical touch, her body responding by tightening her abdominal muscles. She wonders if he knows the affect he has on her.  
  
When she reaches them, Cilghal is saying, “--so it shouldn't be too long before I have that figured out.”  
  
“Good to hear. Master Solo,” he greets. Cilghal echoes the greeting warmly.  
  
“Master Durron, Master Cilghal. What are we figuring out?”  
  
Cilghal launches into an explanation of some medical thing she's working on, only half of which Jaina understands. She nods, and then Cilghal excuses herself to get back to the medical area.  
  
“I didn't understand a word of that,” she tells Kyp.  
  
“Same,” he says, and they both grin. “A moment of your time, Master Solo?”  
  
He gestures to his office, outside of which she realises they're standing.  
  
“Of course, Master Durron.”  
  
He opens the door as Jaden Korr walks by, nodding politely. Jaina follows Kyp into the office. Kyp locks the door.  
  
Then she's pressed against the wall, face upturned, as Kyp kisses her hungrily. Jaina buries her fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss. It's addictive, kissing him, more than any other physical contact has ever been. She hates that they're hiding this, that she can't be open about loving him, but the deception does lend a bit of a thrill to it.  
  
He drags his mouth from hers, breathing unsteady. “I can't get enough of you,” he tells her.  
  
“Same,” she whispers. “Kyp… I'm going to Hapes tomorrow with Tahiri and Allana, but tonight…”  
  
“What about tonight?”  
  
“Let's stay together.”  
  
“You mean…?”  
  
She nods, and he pulls her closer, if that's even possible.  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Completely.”  
  
“Your place or mine?” he jokes. Their rooms are on opposite sides of the hall, directly across from one another. She's wondered repeatedly if Luke did that on purpose when she moved from the quarters she'd shared with her ex-husband.  
  
“Yours. I've always wondered what your bedroom looks like.”  
  
He grins. “Always, huh? Okay.”

She takes a few minutes to regain her composure, and smooth her mussed hair, then takes her leave. Tonight. She's never been more excited or terrified for anything in her life.


	26. Seduction

Alone in her quarters, Jaina paces. She has nothing to wear.  
  
She feels like she and Kyp have been dancing for years around an unspoken question, of what it would be like if they ever consummated the denied feelings between them, and now that she faces doing so, she's nervous. She wasn't when she suggested it, but in the intervening hours, anxiety has built. She doesn't remember being nervous with Jag. But this is Kyp, and she wants tonight to be perfect. Tonight means as much as a wedding night would, a thought that doesn't bother her in the slightest. The thought of messing up does.  
  
The problem is, she's never owned much in the way of lingerie, and what little she had, she threw out after the divorce because it had all been bought for Jag and she didn't want to wear any of it ever again.  
  
So she has nothing to wear.  
  
It's silly, really. Kyp's seen her in swimwear and a few times in the skimpy things one wore in a bacta tank. So he knows what most of her body looks like already. But you're supposed to wear something sexy for something like this, right?  
  
Then again, getting caught in the hallway in a robe and sexy underthings isn't something she wants, either.  
  
Her commlink beeps. It's a text from Kyp. _You coming over?_  
  
Sighing, Jaina pushes her dresser drawer shut, reminding herself that he probably doesn't care _what_ she wears, as long as it eventually comes off. But her palms are sweaty.  
  
 _On my way_ , she sends back.  
  
The corridor is empty as she crosses the hall to his quarters. The door slides open; he's clearly been waiting and sensed her approach. She slips inside and he locks the door behind her.  
  
"I was trying to find something to wear," she blurts out. "You know, something sexy. But I have nothing."  
  
Kyp chuckles softly. "Goddess, I've found you sexy in everything you've ever worn, from a stinky flightsuit to that big, white dress you wore that one time."  
  
He closes the space between them, arms sliding around her. "You don't need to dress up for me. I want you just the way you are."  
  
His kiss is slow but deep, unhurried and bone-melting. Her nervousness fades. She's not going to screw this up. This is so right, and she's ready to make love with him at long last.  
  
When Kyp lifts his head, he's as flushed as she is. Wordlessly, he takes her hand, pulling her with him to the bedroom. Despite saying she wanted to see his bedroom, she doesn't pay much attention to it at all. Her eyes are only for Kyp.  
  
The enormity of what they're doing makes Jaina's fingers tremble as she unbuckles his belt. She wants him, doesn't want to disappoint him. She's only ever been with Jag before this. But as active as their sex life was, she's still not that experienced. She hates insecurity, isn't used to it, doesn't like this self-doubt that grew inside her when Jacen died. This thing between her and Kyp is the only thing that gives her pause, because it means so much and she doesn't want it to implode like everything else. Losing Kyp would be too much.  
  
Kyp catches her hands, lifts them and presses his lips to her knuckles. "You're nervous," he says.  
  
"A little."  
  
"We don't have to do this if you're not ready. I want you, but I don't want to push."  
  
"I am. I'm ready. I'm just afraid that I won't . . . be as good as you want."  
  
He releases her hands, cupping her face in his palms. "Jaina, sweetheart. I love you. I'm not worried about a thing."  
  
"I know it's stupid. I just . . ." She shakes her head. "Kiss me."  
  
"Gladly."  
  
Kyp slants his mouth over hers, and Jaina lets her brain shut off, lets the desire take over.  
  
They undress each other slowly, between kisses that grow more heated and insistent. She pushes his robes from his shoulders with her eyes closed, his tongue battling hers. By the time her boots come off, they're both unsteady, breathing rushed, her lips swollen.  
  
When the last clothes come off, he clasps her to him and they tumble to the bed. Jaina explores him eagerly with hands and mouth, and he does the same. She wants to learn every inch, memorise every freckle, find all the places that make him feel good. His hands are rough on her skin in the best of ways, stroking and caressing until she's at fever pitch.  
  
They don't need words, open to each other and bound tightly through the Force, and each touch amplifies it, weaving them closer together. She knows now why her uncle was so devastated by his wife's death. To lose Kyp now, with the way they're linked, would destroy her.  
  
 _Now_ , she thinks, and Kyp moves over her, surging into her. Jaina arcs off the bed with a wordless cry of pleasure. The Force rushes over them, through them, and it takes her breath away.  
  
Kyp's eyes are wide with awe, his hands clasped with hers as he rolls his hips against her. He bends his head, mouth finding hers, and she undulates beneath him, urging him on.  
  
 _More._  
  
 _Yes, Goddess._  
  
 _Don't stop._  
  
 _Never._  
  
 _I love you._  
  
He smiles against her mouth. _I love you._  
  
They make love for hours, and Jaina loses track of how many times Kyp brings her to climax, how many times she makes him come. The edges between them are blurred to a degree she hasn't experienced since she was a Joiner. She didn't mind it then; she revels in it now.  
  
Finally, they lay tangled in the sheets, wrapped in each other, exhausted and sated, sweaty from their exertions. Kyp lies with his head pillowed on her breast, and she combs her fingers through his hair like she would Anji's fur.  
  
"If you were wondering," he says after a while, "that was in no way a disappointment."  
  
Jaina laughs. "If you've had better than that, I don't want to know."  
  
He lifts his head, hair spilling forward to curtain their faces as he leans over her. "I don't think better than that exists," he whispers.  
  
"If it does, I don't think I'd survive it."  
  
Kyp kisses her lightly. "When are you going to Hapes?"  
  
"Morning. I shouldn't stay," she says mournfully. "If someone sees us . . ."  
  
"I'm tired of hiding," he tells her. "How can we have a life together like this?"  
  
She sighs. "I should just tell Jag and get it over with."  
  
"Stay," he pleads. "Just a little longer."  
  
She wasn't really planning on leaving, anyway. "Okay."


	27. Entwined

Early morning sun spills through the window and across the bed. Jaina blinks awake, wincing at the light. When she tries to cover her eyes, she finds her arm pinned. She grins when she remembers where she is.  
  
Oh, right. Kyp.  
  
They lie together in his bed, limbs entwined. She was supposed to be gone hours ago, but she can't regret staying, even if someone catches her leaving. She hasn't felt this peaceful in a long time, this well-rested or content.  
  
Jaina feels him wake and rolls over to watch him open his eyes. "Good morning," she whispers.  
  
He smiles sleepily. "Hi."  
  
She brushes a curl out of his face. "You sleep well?"  
  
Kyp yawns, tugs her closer. "Better than I have in years."  
  
"Same."  
  
Jaina turns her head, kisses his shoulder softly. "We're gonna get caught. But I think it's time we stopped hiding. When I get back from Hapes, I'm gonna tell Jag. We can't let fear of his reaction control us."  
  
"I agree." He nuzzles her neck. "I love you."  
  
Jaina closes her eyes, smiling to herself. "Love you, too."  
  
Kyp kisses her neck. Jaina grins, knowing his thoughts as much as her own in that moment, through their bond. If she doesn't get moving, she'll be _really_ late. She sighs. "I need to get up, shower, meet Tahiri."  
  
"Save time, shower with me."  
  
Laughing, Jaina sits up. "That will in no way save me time, Kyp."  
  
"Worth a try." He levers upright and yawns. "Fine. Go."  
  
She leans in, kisses him deeply. "I'll miss you while I'm gone."  
  
Kyp tugs at her bottom lip with his teeth. "Then hurry back."  
  
"Oh, I will. I'd love for you to come with, but..."  
  
"Next time," he says. "Go, enjoy your trip. Come back to me."  
  
"I always will."


	28. Tomorrow

Humming to herself, feeling lighter than she has in a while, Jaina presses the door chime at Tahiri's quarters. A full thirty seconds pass and there's no response. There isn't one to her knock, either. When she thumbs the access panel, the unlocked door slides open.  
  
The room is empty. No Tahiri. No anything, really. All of her meagre possessions are gone, save for the robes lying across the unmade bed and a datapad sitting atop it.  
  
Alarmed and yet strangely calm, Jaina crosses to the bed and picks up the datapad. It's been wiped, the only thing in it an unsettling message.  
  
 _I'm sorry, Jaina. You're my sister, but he's my friend, and you betrayed him. I know what you've done. I can't be here and watch you do this._  
  
The door opens and Luke Skywalker comes in, followed by Kyp Durron and Corran Horn. She's not surprised to see them. Corran was Tahiri's master. Kyp is virtually Luke's right hand man these days.  
  
“What are you doing here?” her uncle asks.  
  
“Tahiri and I were supposed to go to Hapes today, to visit Tenel Ka. But…” She gestures around. “She's left.”  
  
“Last night,” Corran Horn says. “She boosted one of the smaller transports. No one was awake except a few sentries, and she apparently slipped past using some technique she learned from Jacen. We don't know where she went.”  
  
Jaina's voice is just a little shaky as she says, “I think I do.”  
  
She hands the datapad to Luke. He reads the message aloud. Jaina doesn't look at Kyp.  
  
“You think she's gone to Jag?” Luke asks.  
  
“That's the only ‘he’ I can think of that I could have betrayed at this point.” She laughs without humour.  
  
“He's the one who became Emperor,” Corran points out. “How could *you* betray *him*?”  
  
Kyp leans against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. This isn't how Jaina imagined the day after to go. They exchange a look.  
  
“Me,” he says.  
  
Luke and Corran turn to look at him.  
  
“What?” Corran squeaks, and it would be hilarious if the situation were different.  
  
“Jaina and I are in a relationship.”  
  
Corran looks between the two of them, eyes bugging. The animosity between the two men has faded over time, but the idea is clearly baffling to the older man.  
  
“It's true,” she says. “We've been seeing each other for a couple months. Tahiri apparently found out, which we purposely didn't tell anyone so that it couldn't get back to Jag, and… I don't know.”  
  
“Jag's always been a bit, uh…” Kyp wrinkles his nose. “He knows I love Jaina and hasn't liked us even being friends, and he's always been irrational and obnoxious about it. We didn't want him to think Jaina left him for me. Tahiri clearly thinks she did and has gone to tell Jag.”  
  
Jaina shakes her head. "I'm going to have to comm him, tell him. I have no idea how she's going to spin this.  
  
Talking to Jag is the last thing she wants to do today. She wants to retreat with Kyp and hide from reality. She wants to go with her friends on a vacation. She doesn't want to face her ex-husband for the first time since she signed her divorce documents and tell him she's in love with someone else.  
  
But she has no choice.  
  
Kyp closes the space between them and pulls her close. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to do anything alone."  
  
Corran clears his throat. "Ah . . . I'll just . . . go see about improving our security."  
  
He excuses himself and leaves. Luke looks at the couple for a moment, then says, "I trust you not to start an interplanetary incident. Let me know how it goes."  
  
He, too, exits. Kyp kisses Jaina's forehead.  
  
"This is _his_ picnic talk," he tells her, and she laughs briefly.  
  
"Yeah. Well, better get it over with."


	29. Apology

In light of the impending crisis, Jaina reluctantly postpones the trip to Hapes. Allana is disappointed, but Jaina says they'll go with Kyp in a few days.  
  
She's nervous as she makes the holonet call. Jaina knows she shouldn't be. She's done nothing wrong, and this is really just a courtesy. But she hasn't spoken to Jag since their divorce was final, seven months ago.  
  
He always set her on edge, she reflects as she waits for it to go through. She always had trouble with words around him, always felt a tiny bit apprehensive of his response. He'd been predictable until the Killiks. Now, when he gets angry, she doesn't know how he'll react. And this is sure to make him very, very angry.  
  
Kyp had never made her fearful or nervous, not this way. She knows with him, and he her, just how far they can push each other. They're direct, open, and even when she's been angry to the point of blows, Jaina's always known how Kyp will respond. Her only nervousness had been in the times their tension had been so high, she'd been afraid he would do something insane like kiss her.  
  
Funny how she's more than willing to prod him into doing just that now.  
  
The holonet call finally goes through, answered by a dour-faced, blue skinned Chiss. He narrows his glowing red eyes at her.  
  
“How did you get this frequency?” he demands.  
  
“Tahiri gave it to me,” she says. “I need to speak with Jag.”  
  
“His Excellency is occupied.”  
  
“I'm sure he is, what with running an Empire now.” She sighs. “Please, Ashik, tell him Jaina needs to talk to him.”  
  
The Chiss is clearly reluctant, but places her on hold while he goes to speak to Jag. She only has to wait a few minutes. As she's anticipated, Jag seems eager to speak to her. The part of her that still loves him, will likely always love him, dreads what she's about to say.  
  
He's cool and reserved, and only years spent in intimate contact tells her he's happy to see her. “Master… Solo, I presume it is now,” he says, in his stiff way. “This is unexpected.”  
  
If that's the way he wants to do things, she'll play along. “Emperor Fel. I'm afraid this isn't a social call. Not precisely. We've had a situation arise and I wanted to speak to you in person about it.”  
  
Kyp, leaning against the wall to her right, out of the camera’s range, snorts softly.  
  
“And what might that be?”  
  
“Tahiri resigned from the Order this morning and stole one of our shuttles. She left a message indicating that she was defecting to the Empire.”  
  
Genuine surprise crosses his lean, handsome face. “Why would she do that?”  
  
Jaina hesitates. She takes a deep breath, then says, “She's apparently angry with me, personally. She said that she feels I betrayed you and can't stay here.”  
  
There is a long silence, as Jag contemplates this. “And why,” he inquires at last, “would she feel this way?”  
  
Jaina resolutely doesn't look at Kyp. “Since she doesn't know my side of things, I wanted to speak to you and explain before she gets there and tells you her misinformation. I've started seeing someone recently. I think Tahiri is under the impression that I left you for… this person.”  
  
Jag stares at her for a long, quiet moment, a muscle jumping in his clenched jaw. He knows that it would have to be someone from her past. It can't be Zekk, because they attended his wedding shortly before they divorced.  
  
“And how,” he asks, voice low and cold, “is Master Durron? I presume it's Kyp. You would only warn me if it's him.”  
  
“He's fine. Um.” Jaina hates seeing expression of disgust on his face. “I didn't leave you for him. I want you to know that.”  
  
He stares at her in silence. “So you're telling me this to prevent Tahiri from ‘tattling’? But she's forced your hand. You didn't want me to know at all, did you?”  
  
“... Not immediately. I don't know you anymore, Jag. This- this emperor thing? The man I married would never have wanted that.”  
  
“I've changed,” he says shortly. “But I always knew you had feelings for Kyp. Perhaps you should have done us all a favour and chosen him in the first place. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to meet with the Moffs Council. Goodbye, Jaina.”  
  
He cuts the call. Jaina squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “He's right,” she tells Kyp. “But I loved him, too. I did. Part of me still does. I'm sorry.”  
  
“I know. Don't apologise. You don't owe either of us anything.”  
  
“Then why do I feel like I do?”  
  
“Because you're a good person. Come on, I'm starving and I know you haven't had breakfast, either. Everything else can wait.”


	30. Sun

Having told Jag, they feel they're able to be open finally about their relationship. Seven months have passed since her divorce was final. It seems both too short a time and an eternity to Jaina.  
  
Walking outside in the warm autumn sunlight, they watch some students go through training exercises. At the moment, four of the older students run an obstacle course, trying to keep an egg from falling as they dodge both animate and inanimate objects, as well as blaster fire from someone stationed in a nearby tree.  
  
Jaina remembers when that person had been Jag, and they'd been testing students to be her apprentice. She hadn't taken any of the students, and within eight weeks, her marriage had been over.  
  
Allana and Anji skip ahead of them on the path. Allana does, anyway. Anji slinks low, eyes watching a bird as it flits from tree to tree.  
  
Kyp takes Jaina's hand, weaving his fingers through hers, and she smiles up at him. It's nice to be together during the day, where everyone can see.  
  
“This is where I'm supposed to be,” she says after a while. “I'm not cut out to be the empress of anything. I'm a Jedi.”  
  
“Yeah, you're a fighter, not a ruler.” Kyp gestures with a head tilt towards her niece. “And Allana needs you to train her. I'm sure Tenel Ka could, too, but she's busy. Who better to train the future Jedi Queen than a warrior goddess?”  
  
Jaina grins, shaking her head. “You're the only one who keeps up with that.”  
  
“You've always been my goddess, and you always will be.”  
  
She turns, poking him in the stomach. “Who knew Kyp Durron was such a sap?”  
  
His dark eyes narrow, glinting dangerously. Jaina grins, then gives him a shove and takes off running. She bolts past Anji, Kyp on her heels.  
  
Allana pauses, grabbing Anji’s collar to keep the nexu from joining in when Kyp tackles Jaina into a tall stand of wild grass. The girl huffs a sigh when they don't immediately emerge.  
  
“Come on, Anji. Let's go watch the training exercise,” she says, and she and the large feline head towards the group observing the students.  
  
When Kyp and Jaina rejoin her twenty minutes later, they both have twigs in their hair.


	31. Grace

One of the oldest students, a seventeen-year-old human male, boasts to a group of friends about his skill with a lightsaber as Jaina and Kyp walk by. Kyp isn't paying much attention, lost in contemplating a conversation he wants to have with her, when she suddenly stops.  
  
"Apprentice Gisk," she says suddenly, and the boy straightens.  
  
Kyp thinks the kid is young, so impossibly young. He had no longer been a boy at that age, forged into a man far too early by loss and circumstance. He isn't sure this boy will be a man in his thirties.  
  
"Yes, Master Solo?" Gage Gisk squeaks.  
  
"You say you're good with a lightsaber. Show me."  
  
". . . Pardon?"  
  
"Master Durron is going to have a seminar on advanced swordfighting. We're looking for students for it. You need to audition, though."  
  
Gage glances nervously at his friends, then at him, and finally says to Jaina, "O-okay. Now?"  
  
"Unless you have a class you're supposed to be in."  
  
He nods rapidly. "Okay. I can show you."  
  
The kid, Kyp thinks, is dead meat.  
  
Jaina leads them all--her, the boy, Kyp, the kid's friends--to one of the larger training rooms. A few masters are in there, watching younglings exercise with stun rods. Kyp wonders idly if they ought to get those out for this exchange, because if Gage isn't as good as he's boasting, he might lose a limb.  
  
Gage is advanced enough to have made his own lightsaber. It's a vibrant blue-green, more teal than turquoise. He stands steadily enough, in a high guard, classic Soresu style. Jaina ignites her violet blade and stands casually, not in any particular style. He himself prefers a mix of Ataru and Djem So, though he, along with the other Masters, know all forms. He knows that Jaina has trained in all and likes switching randomly in the middle of a fight just because she can.  
  
If this kid really thinks he can take on the Sword, Kyp hopes he's as good as he says, because otherwise, Jaina is going to pretty much take him apart. Maybe it's perverse of him to be entertained by the idea, but there it is.  
  
She lets Gage come to her. He's at least a head taller than she is, which makes it all the more amusing when she lulls him into a false sense of security. Jaina tests him, blocking his blows with the Soresu he's using. She's calculating, graceful and minimal in her movements.  
  
The kid is pretty good, Kyp notes. His problem isn't that his skill is less than he says, so much as that his ego is bigger than it should be. Too much pride is dangerous. He should know. He's probably the Order's best example of "arrogant idiot".  
  
He senses movement to his left, and glances over at Master Kyle Katarn. The older man, brown hair and beard now heavily tinged with white, watches with brown eyes as Jaina draws the student out, gets him to lower his guard.  
  
"What's she doing?" Kyle asks quietly.  
  
"He was boasting that he's going to be a swordmaster soon," Kyp murmurs. "Jaina is having a teaching moment."  
  
Kyle snorts. "She's going to flatten him."  
  
"Pretty much."  
  
Gage shoots his watching friends a grin. It's then that Jaina attacks.  
  
She slides under his raised arms and clocks him in the chin with her elbow. Then she sweeps his legs from under him and kicks his blade away. He's on the ground in less than three seconds and his weapon is in her hand, deactivated.  
  
"Distraction will kill you," she says, and tosses the hilt to him.  
  
Gage climbs to his feet, face red. "You cheated. That's not fair!"  
  
"You think when the Sith come, they'll fight fair?" she demands. "You think a pirate with a blaster is going to fight _fair_? There is _no such thing as fair_!"  
  
His blade roars to life and he leaps at her, letting his anger and embarrassment get the better of him. He has speed and size on his side. Jaina stops him with a block to his blade, the two weapons meeting with a crack, and then she doubles him over with a kick to the stomach.  
  
Even when beating a cocky kid to a pulp, Kyp muses, she's nothing but graceful.  
  
It still takes three minutes for Gage to concede the duel. He does so from flat on his back on the floor, red-faced and wheezing.  
  
Jaina, Kyp notes, hasn't broken a sweat.  
  
He steps forward and offers Gage a hand up. The kid blinks at him, then takes it and lets Kyp pull him to his feet.  
  
"You're good," he says, "but you're not anywhere near ready for my class."  
  
Gage nods. "Yes, Master Durron."  
  
He turns to Jaina. "My apologies, Master Solo. I let my need to impress my friends make me stupid. Thank you for showing me that."  
  
Jaina eyes him, face unreadable. "I could send you back to the beginning for your arrogance. But I don't think I will, because you can recognise your mistake. Just don't let it happen again, Apprentice Gisk. Reality isn't a lightsaber against a remote. It's ugly and dangerous and will kill you."  
  
"Master, if I may ask . . . who trained you?"  
  
Her dark eyes flick over his face. "Initially, Master Mara Jade Skywalker. I don't think you ever met her. But she wasn't my only master."  
  
"Who else?"  
  
She jerks a thumb at Kyp. "He was. And incidentally, Master Durron is the only one who can fight me to a standstill. So don't try that with _him_ , either."  
  
She clips her lightsaber to her belt and goes to talk to Kyle.  
  
Gage watches her go. "She's amazing."  
  
"Don't go getting a crush," Kyp warns him. He doesn't want this kid hanging around, googly-eyed and asking for advice as an excuse to be near her. "Not only is she twice your age, she's taken."  
  
Gage gulps, nodding quickly.   
  
He pats the kid on the shoulder. "Give it another year or two, and I _might_ consider training you."  
  
Kyp turns and goes to join Jaina. He's never been prouder of his former apprentice than when she's pounding on people.


	32. Sleep

Jaina does not wake subtly, flailing from sleep with a ragged cry. Kyp, startled from his own slumber, blinks muzzily in the dark of the bedroom. Instinctively, he pulls her to him. She resists for a moment, then subsides, trembling in silence.  
  
“Jacen again?” he asks against her shoulder.  
  
“Anakin,” she rasps. “I was killing Anakin this time.”  
  
Kyp kisses her shoulder, holding her tighter. He knows not to ask if she wants to talk. If she does, she will.  
  
Eventually, she pulls away to slip out of bed. He lies in the dark and waits for her as she retreats to the refresher. Kyp wishes he could do more to ease her pain over her brothers' deaths, but there's nothing he _can_ do more than he's done over the past nearly two decades.  
  
When she returns, sliding under the covers, he pulls her close, pressing his face into her hair. There are no words for how content he feels, holding her like this. It's a peace he never expected to feel in his life, one he isn't sure he deserves.  
  
“I don't think you've spent a single night in your quarters in weeks,” he murmurs.  
  
“I think you're right.”  
  
“You should just move in.”  
  
Jaina heaves a sigh and snuggles closer, rolling over to face him. “Probably. You sure?”  
  
He kisses her forehead. “Wouldn't bring it up if I weren't.”  
  
She's quiet for a long moment. “Why not? I'm here every night anyway, and I already know most of your annoying habits.”  
  
Kyp chuckles. "That is very true."  
  
Her fingers play over his chest in the dark. Jaina curls into him, clutching his shirt in a fist. “Do they ever stop?” she asks.  
  
“Do what stop?”  
  
“The dreams about murdering my brother.”  
  
He wants to lie, but can't. “Not that I've found.”  
  
She nods and presses her face against his chest. He holds her close, nose to her hair, breathing in the scent of her.  
  
“But I can tell you one thing,” he whispers.  
  
“What's that?”  
  
“We don't have to face them alone anymore.”


	33. Dark Eyes

He loves her eyes. It would be easy for anyone who doesn't _look_ to just dismiss them as brown, or "dark". But Jaina's eyes are so much more than that. They're a golden brown, irises rimmed in chocolate, the colour of a good Corellian whiskey. They're shot through with flecks of copper and stria of the same brown that outlines them.  
  
They seem to glow when she laughs, and they go a deep, sultry russet in moments of passion. He could spend forever staring into them, trying to count all the colours he sees. No, they're not just brown.  
  
"What?" she asks, as they lie facing each other, on a blanket in their meadow as Allana climbs a nearby tree and Anji chases birds. "You're staring."  
  
"Just enjoying the view," he murmurs. "I love your eyes."  
  
"I love yours," she says softly. "They remind me of . . . Looking up at the sun through leaves when you're deep in the forest. They're not brown. Someone said once that they are. I don't know where they got that idea, because your eyes are definitely green. Dark green, though. With a little brown in them. They change a lot, too. Like when you wear certain colours, they're brilliant green. But when you're upset, they go really dark."  
  
"I was just thinking about your eyes doing the same. I like them best when you're feeling . . . friendly." He knows there are young ears nearby, and isn't going to get more specific than that. Allana will need "the talk" at some point, but it's definitely not going to come from him.  
  
Jaina chuckles softly. "I like yours best then, too."  
  
"You do, huh?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He weaves his hand into her hair, the silky strands sliding through his fingers. She wore it just below shoulder length when he first fell in love with her. It now falls to her waist, a braid across the crown of her head keeping it back from her face.  
  
"You're so beautiful," he whispers.  
  
She blushes, which never fails to enchant him. She's one of the most confident women he knows, and yet, when told she's beautiful, she never seems to believe it. "I remember when I was eighteen, and you called me one of your more attractive friends."  
  
He grins. "I couldn't help myself. From the moment I realised you were a woman, rather than the girl who used to tag along and use your dad's friendship with me as an excuse to hang out, I've been hopelessly lost."  
  
Jaina's eyes search his face. "Part of me wishes you'd been more direct back then. But I don't know how it would have gone if you had."  
  
"I'm good with how things are now," he tells her. "We can't change what was, so I'm just going to enjoy how it's turned out."  
  
Allana, bored with tree climbing, suddenly plops down beside them. "You're getting mushy again," she observes. Her grey eyes flick over Kyp. "When do I start calling you Uncle Kyp?"  
  
He laughs at her directness, noting Jaina's obvious fluster. "Uh . . ."  
  
They haven't discussed marriage. He wants to, very much. He wants a life and a family with her. But they've only been together a few months, and he doesn't want to push so soon after her divorce.  
  
"I'm okay with you doing that," he finally tells the girl, "but I'm not your uncle."  
  
"Yet," she points out, and hops to her feet to go play with Anji.  
  
Jaina shakes with silent laughter. "Sometimes, she's so much like Tenel Ka," she wheezes.  
  
Kyp shakes his head. "She's only going to get worse."  
  
"I know."


	34. Question

Curled beside Kyp in their bed, Jaina lies on her side, watching him. He faces her, and under her scrutiny, he grins. It's a repeat of earlier in the day, in the meadow.  
  
"What?" he asks.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
She runs her hand over his bare chest, taking in every detail of him. The freckles on his skin, the long, faint scars that cover his body where they repaired his shattered bones. She's come to know him so much more these last few weeks, little things that only this new intimacy could have told her, even after knowing him so long.  
  
She wonders how she so easily dismissed this thing between them when she was younger. It feels like Kyp is the one person who *gets* her. She doesn't have to explain herself to him, he just _knows_ , always has. Jaina can't recall the last time they actually had a real argument, rather than a spirited discussion. _Hapes?_ she wonders. _I think it was Hapes. I argued with Jag nearly every kriffing day._  
  
He catches her hand, brings it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. He's gentle at the most surprising times, passionate just when she needs him to be. "I love you."  
  
Jaina smiles, her heart swelling. "I love _you_. Kyp . . ."  
  
"Mm?"  
  
Her eyes search his face, so familiar and so loved. "Marry me?"  
  
He lets out a disbelieving, surprised laugh. "What?"  
  
"Marry me," she repeats, and she's more certain this time.  
  
Kyp snorts and says, "I've been trying to figure out how to ask _you_."  
  
"Who cares who asks?" Jaina pushes him to his back and leans over him. "I want to marry you. I should have years ago."  
  
He tangles his fingers in her hair. "Of course I'll marry you, Goddess. I was afraid it was too soon. You haven't even been divorced a year. I didn't want to push."  
  
"We've waited long enough. We're good together, we know that. I don't want to waste more time."  
  
"I agree. Let's get married."  
  
Jaina ducks her head, kissing him. Kyp flips her to her back, peppering her face, neck, and shoulders with kisses, everywhere he can reach that's exposed by the little straps of her pajama top. She laughs, for once feeling completely carefree.  
  
Later, she lies in the dark, his head pillowed on her breast. Kyp snores, and Jaina grins to herself as she runs her hand through his curls. His hair is soft, twisting and turning as it slides between her fingers. She wants a baby with curls like his, she thinks, and it only brings contentment. She'd never properly discussed children with Jag; the idea had always made her feel vaguely anxious. But with Kyp . . .  
  
He'll be a good father. She remembers a little of that month he'd lived with them when she was two, almost three, and how he'd played with her and Jacen, never telling them to go away when she knows they must have been irritating to the teenager. And he's good with Allana, never condescending. The girl is going to be thrilled by this news.  
  
He stirs a little, wrapping his arm tighter around her. Jaina sighs and closes her eyes. Her last thought as she drifts to sleep is that she needs to find a dress now that she's getting married again.


	35. Special

They take Allana to Hapes to visit her mother. It's mid-autumn on Shedu Maad, but early summer on Hapes, the weather beautiful. While Jaina visits with Tenel Ka, Kyp goes hunting. Jaina may have popped the question, but he wants to find her the perfect ring. He can't compete with the enormous sparkler she'd received from Jag; he doesn't have that kind of money. He isn't, after all, either Head of State or Emperor. He's a Jedi Master with very little to his name, though he has some credits set aside, tucked away in case of emergencies, relocated to a bank here on Hapes after the Jedi left Coruscant.  
  
He fingers the sleeve of his robes, realising they're getting a bit worn. Jaina's remark about blood on his clothes comes back to him, and he absentmindedly rubs his shoulder. The wound is long healed, but the memory brings a phantom ache.  
  
Tenel Ka is aware of what he's doing; he asked her for advice and she swore to keep Jaina occupied and give him plenty of shopping time. She also recommended a few jewellers he could visit.  
  
Kyp's at the second one when he finds it. He doesn't know much about jewellery, really, but it's simpler than the ring Jaina had before, made special not by an elaborate design, but by the oblong, cushion cut rainbow gem from Gallinore. It's not a big one--he can't afford a big one--but it's haloed by tiny diamonds, all set in a silver metal.  
  
He winces a little at the price, but he knows it's perfect for her. It's even in her size, which makes him think maybe he was meant to buy _this_ ring. It takes a sizeable chunk out of those emergency savings, but he does it anyway.  
  
Back at the palace, Kyp finds Jaina in their room, the room she had so many years ago and he raided to locate her lightsaber the night of her brother’s funeral. Jaina told him when they arrived that it's essentially her official room at the palace, since she's the aunt of the heir to the throne.  
  
“We should move in here,” he jokes as he enters the room. “It's much nicer than home.”  
  
She laughs. She's in the middle of dressing for dinner, and she has her hair up in a towel. “I don't think I could handle it. Too many courtiers and I'd punch someone. What do you think, these earrings or these other ones? I don't want to dress up, but we have to. It's some fancy to-do.”  
  
Kyp reaches around her, pulling her back against him, and holds up the ring. “Whatever goes best with this.”  
  
Her mouth drops open. She grabs it and whirls in his arms. “Kyp!”  
  
“Is it okay? I wasn't sure, but it felt right.”  
  
She looks down at the ring, her other hand pressed to her mouth. “It's gorgeous.”  
  
He plucks the ring from her fingers and slides it onto her hand. “It's nothing compared to your other one.”  
  
Jaina runs a fingertip over the centre stone. “It's perfect. I never really liked the other one. Jag picked it but didn't take my preferences into consideration. I put up with it because, well, it was so expensive. This is . . . it's beautiful.”  
  
“You're not just saying that so you don't hurt my feelings?” He says it jokingly, but the fear is there.  
  
She shakes her head, then loops her arms around his neck. “I love it. Thank you.”  
  
“I wanted something special. I remembered you talking to Tenel Ka about the rainbow gems being living things, and I thought, when I saw this, that it was perfect. I don't know if it hurt to be faceted, or not, but if you really focus on it, you can feel that it's alive.”  
  
“It's a good symbol for us,” she says softly. “I want our marriage to be a living thing, so to speak. Living and growing.”  
  
“Exactly what I was thinking.” He kisses her softly.  
  
Jaina pulls out of his arms with clear reluctance. “I think I'll wear the blue earrings. One of the outfits Trista brought for you has a blue shirt. So I'll go with the blue dress, too, instead of the black. We can match.”  
  
“No red dress?” he asks mournfully.  
  
She grins at him. “Sadly, no. It's almost twenty years out of fashion and I'm not allowed to wear it.”  
  
“Wait. You _have_ it?”  
  
“I do. And if you're good and behave yourself at this party, I may put it on later.”  
  
He swears to be on his best behaviour for the duration.


	36. Adoration

Jaina feels pretty in the borrowed dress and jewels, her hair done elaborately and her feet in shoes that kill her feet. But the look on Kyp's face when he sees her is worth every bit of it.  
  
It hits her, as he offers his arm, that she's going to marry him. They're friends and lovers, but someday, he's going to be her husband. It brings a smile to her face.  
  
When her marriage to Jag collapsed, she thought that maybe Luke had been right, that she'd be alone and lonely forever. But she'd been wrong. She has Kyp, and Force willing, she will always have him.  
  
They enter the ballroom as part of the Queen Mother’s entourage. Her old friend Zekk is there, too, with his wife, Taryn. She's glad to see him happy. He'd been hung up on her for far too long.  
  
She glances over as Taryn sidles up. “Hi.”  
  
“I see you have a new bauble,” the queen’s cousin says.  
  
Jaina grins, holding up the ring for inspection. “Kyp gave it to me earlier.”  
  
Zekk frowns a little, but in bemusement rather than anger. “I'm still boggled at you two.”  
  
“Why?” Taryn asks. “It's clear they adore each other.”  
  
“It's a long story,” Jaina says before Zekk can comment. She studies the younger woman. Taryn's cheeks are practically glowing. “Do you two have any news, by chance?”  
  
Taryn grins. “I'm sure you know. You're a Jedi.”  
  
“And you're practically luminous,” Jaina says. She beams at her old friend. “How far are you?”  
  
“Three months,” Zekk tells her, and looks at his wife with such love, Jaina feels mushy for a moment.  
  
She looks for Kyp, his Force presence off to her left, somewhere near the refreshments. “Excuse me, I'm going to go track down my fiancé.”  
  
He's just finished loading a plate with tiny, fussy finger foods when she locates him. She plucks a little pastry off the plate and pops it into her mouth.  
  
“Oh, these are good,” she says after she swallows. “Hey, you remember those nasty things they served at the reception after the knighting ceremony Cal Omas made us have?”  
  
Kyp grimaces. “Those were nearly the worst things I've ever eaten.”  
  
“What could possibly be worse?” she asks, but he doesn't answer. His face has gone slack with surprise, looking at something behind her.  
  
She turns as a tall blonde woman, probably five or ten years older than her, comes through the crowd, her stunning face alight with a brilliant smile. She's curvy in a way Jaina probably will never be, with deep blue eyes. She's trailed by a handsome man with brown hair, his temples touched with silver, his eyes a pale blue.  
  
“Kyp!” the woman exclaims. Her accent is Hapan, which explains both presence and beauty. “Fancy seeing _you_ here! How _are_ you?”  
  
Jaina suddenly finds herself holding the plate, as Kyp says, “Thelia, this is a surprise.”  
  
She blinks at the taller woman, who is, even now, bussing a kiss to Kyp's cheek. _This_ is Thelia Brandt, the woman Kyp might have married? She's suddenly got a cold lump in her stomach. Jaina isn't given to insecurity, but Thelia is _gorgeous_. And definitely the type to own a yellow speeder. Her dress is practically poured on, the frothy material clinging in all the right places, the layers shaded from nearly white to a deep red-orange, with tones of yellow in between. She looks like a pillar of fire.  
  
Jaina looks down at her dark blue dress, the only fancy part of it being the velvet material and the gathering on the bodice. She's short, her dress is plain, and she feels suddenly like maybe she _should_ have worn the red dress, even if it was out of style.  
  
Thelia reaches for her companion, pulling him forward. “This is Jaster Tenaj, my husband,” she says. “Our son is with the nanny droid tonight. Jaster’s company is invested in the Hapan shipyard, with my father, so we came for an inspection.”  
  
“Nice to meet you,” Tenaj says, offering a polite smile. It isn't warm. He clearly knows who Kyp is to Thelia and is about as thrilled as Jaina.  
  
Kyp's arm slides around Jaina, and he curves his hand around her elbow, fingers tracing little circles over her arm. His touch is reassuring, as is the love he projects through their Force bond. Jaina forces herself to relax, but she's baffled. He chose _her_ over this woman?!  
  
“Thee,” he says, “this is Jedi Master Jaina Solo. Jaina is my fiancée. Jay, this is Thelia Brandt, an old friend.”  
  
“Oh, that's wonderful news! I'm so happy for you!” Thelia offers her hand with a big smile. Jaina is surprised, when she takes it, that the other woman's sincere.  
  
Jaster murmurs something to his wife, and moves off into the crush of people. Thelia glances after him, then turns back to Jaina.  
  
“Really, I'm glad to hear you two are together,” she continues. “Kyp's always been crazy about you. It drove me barvy, but it sounds like things have worked out for the best all around. When are you getting married?”  
  
Kyp replied, “We haven't set a date yet. We just got engaged a few days ago.”  
  
“Well, congratulations! Be sure to send me an invitation! I’ll get out of your hair now. Kyp, it was good to see you. If you'll be on-planet for a bit, you should stop by, both of you. We've got rooms at the Den'tarak Lodge. I'd love for you to meet Miko.”  
  
Then she's gone, and Jaina feels like she's just emerged from a really hairy dogfight.  
  
“Uh. Wow.”  
  
“She takes getting used to,” Kyp says.  
  
“So let me get this straight. You could have married _her_ , and you broke up with her for me.”  
  
Kyp takes the plate of foodstuffs and sets it on the table. Then he takes her hands and pulls her close. His green eyes are full of nothing but adoration. “Like she said, I'm crazy about you. I dated her because she wasn't you.”  
  
“She's pretty. Am I not pretty?”  
  
He smiles. “She's pretty,” he concedes. “But Goddess, do you know just how beautiful you are to me? You don't need a bunch of jewels or a fancy dress. You're already the most gorgeous woman in this room.”  
  
Her answering smile is wry. “I'm hardly that. There you go again, piling the flattery on. I'm already marrying you, you know.”  
  
“I'm not flattering you, and you know it. Ta’a Chume wanted you to be Queen Mother, remember? Regardless of her other motivations, you're beautiful enough to rule the most narcissistic society in the galaxy.”  
  
Jaina laughs then. “Okay, okay. I just feel weird knowing I was competition for her.”  
  
“Please. You could wipe the floor with her with one arm tied behind your back.”  
  
They finish off the plate of foodstuffs, and then he draws her out to the dance floor. Jaina's never really liked balls, but spending time with Kyp like this, when so much of their lives have been horrific, is wonderful. It's nice to laugh and joke and dance with him, even if he isn't the most skilled in that area.  
  
The best is slow dancing to a ballad, her head resting against Kyp's chest. She could stay like this forever, she thinks, just the two of them. If only the rest of their lives could be as peaceful as this moment. It's just wishful thinking, she knows, but she doesn't want to surrender a second of this.  
  
"Let's get out of here," he says softly.  
  
She looks up, into his eyes full of love and wanting, and says, "Okay."


	37. Moonlight

After the ball, back in their borrowed quarters, Jaina changes into the red dress that Tenel Ka has kept for her, somehow, all these years. It doesn't fit _quite_ the same way it did when she was nineteen. She's not as slender and, frankly, malnourished as she was then. The corseted bodice emphasizes this point really well, and Jaina's glad she didn't wear the dress to the gathering. That isn't the kind of attention she wants from anyone except Kyp.  
  
Their room has an exterior door to a courtyard garden, and Kyp waits there for her. Leaving her hair down and her feet bare, Jaina pushes the doors open and steps out into the moonlight. Hapes has two moons, and both are full and high in the sky above them.  
  
He's changed into his robes, Jaina notes with amusement, as she crosses to him over the cool stone tiles of the walkway. He in his robes, her in the dress, just like that night.  
  
He turns, watching her approach. Though the garden is lit with tall torches and the moonlight, his face is shadowed. Only the thrum of heat through their bond tells her he likes what he sees, until she gets close enough to look up into his face.  
  
"Still fits," she says, then adds, "Sort of. I don't remember the neckline being this low last time."  
  
Kyp grins and holds out his hand. "I do, but I had a different vantage point."  
  
Jaina laughs and places her hand in his. "Yeah, I'll bet you did."  
  
He pulls her close. "I've fantasized about this dress for almost twenty years. You're even more beautiful in it now than you were then."  
  
"You think so?"  
  
Kyp tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear and cups her face in one hand. "Goddess," he says roughly, "I told you, I don't give you unnecessary flattery. It's the truth. You're the most beautiful woman in the galaxy to me, and I've loved you helplessly since you were nineteen. The first time I saw you in this dress . . . Force help me, I wanted to kiss you."  
  
"You should have," she says softly. "Maybe if you had . . . Everything would have been different."  
  
"You didn't want me then," he reminds her softly.  
  
She shakes her head. "Not exactly true. I did, and I was scared. I ran from it. On Borleias, when we had that kriffed up picnic? When I said that we weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, that that wasn't quite right to describe us . . . I'd thought about it. About us. But I was so young, Kyp. You were a man, and I was barely older than a girl. You wanted me, and I couldn't deal with it."  
  
He smiles wryly. "When I realised you were with Jag, I thought I could wait it out, be there for you when it fell apart. Then I tried to tell myself I wasn't in love with you. I tried to convince myself for so long. I had no idea that what I told myself that day on Borleias would come true, that I'd pick up the pieces when you needed me to."  
  
"I did need you," she whispers. "I've always needed you, even when I told myself I didn't. I walked away from you and into a really messed up marriage. I let Jag control me too much. I wasn't . . . _me_ with him. I feel like I lost myself after the war, and I've only now really found myself again. With you."  
  
Kyp slides his arm around her waist, tugging her against him. "If I'd kissed you that night, in the hallway . . ."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Would you have hit me, or kissed me back?"  
  
Jaina thinks for a long moment. "Pretty even odds on that. I don't know. But . . ."  
  
"But what?"  
  
"If you kiss me _now_ . . ."  
  
He lowers his head, covering her mouth with his. Jaina raises on her toes to return the kiss.  
  
She squeaks in surprise when he bends to sweep her up in his arms, the crimson shimmersilk of her skirts a voluminous pouf nearly in his face. Jaina smooths them down as he carries her back into their room. She waves her hand at the doors to push them shut, and then she's entirely too distracted to worry about anything for a while.


	38. Fly

As an engagement present, Tenel Ka gifts them a ship. Its main body is ovoid, with sharp wings that jut down and to the fore, each bearing turbo lasers. The ship is heavily armed, with three sleep cabins--a "master" cabin and two crew cabins--and though it's designed for a pilot and co-pilot, it can be operated by just one. It's not as large as the _Jade Shadow_ , not quite, but it still has plenty of cargo room.  
  
Jaina runs her fingers along the hull, which is a surprising rose gold hue with silver accents, a look of absolute delight on her face. "This is amazing," she says. "Thank you so much, Tenel Ka!"  
  
The Queen Mother smiles. "I had it commissioned when you told me that you had parted ways with Jag," she tells them. "I had an idea that you might need a ship of your own soon."  
  
Kyp grins. "You've certainly made her day," he tells the queen.  
  
Tenel Ka nods. "The ship needs a name, it does not bear one yet."  
  
"We'll think of something," he says. Jaina is clearly itching to take the ship for a spin, and it amuses him.  
  
"I am replacing Allana's tutor. And I am assigning a guard. If you would like, they can fly the ship you arrived in back to Shedu Maad, and you and Jaina can take this ship together."  
  
His smile turns wry. "You know us well."  
  
The queen's grey eyes shift to where Jaina examines the ship's engines from the outside. She's far enough away now to not readily hear their conversation. "You have brought my friend, my _sister_ , back from the brink of darkness. I was leery of you before, of your reputation, but you have been nothing but good for my friend. For that, I will be eternally grateful."  
  
He's uncomfortable with the praise and doesn't know how to respond. Tenel Ka seems to know that, and she just smiles.  
  
With Allana on board, Jaina is all nervous, excited energy as she gets to fire up the engines on their ship. Kyp loves watching her as she runs through the startup sequence, cooing over the ship's systems. Seeing her this happy pleases him.  
  
"What are we going to name our ship?" he asks.  
  
Jaina tips her head, thinking. "Something 'us'," she says. Then she smiles. " _Rogue's Goddess_."  
  
Kyp laughs. "I like it. Lots of meanings."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Fire her up, let's give her a run."  
  
She shoots him a look, grins. "Yes, _Master_."


	39. Heart

Back on Shedu Maad, with the tutor problems sorted out, Allana is much happier. She visits Jaina one afternoon in her office, and they curl up on the sofa with mugs of hot chocolate to ward off the chill of the rain outside.  
  
After she finishes her chocolate, Allana sets it aside carefully and then snuggles closer to Jaina. “When you and Uncle Kyp have your baby, you should name her after Ben’s mom.”  
  
Jaina smiled and ruffles her niece’s hair. “Kyp and I aren't having a baby, not yet.”  
  
The girl draws back, grey eyes skeptical. “Yes, you are. Can't you feel her?”  
  
Freezing outwardly, Jaina frantically reaches out in the Force, scanning herself. Her heart leaps when she finds the tiny flutter of life nestled there, in her womb, so new it has no awareness of anything yet. It wasn't there days ago. How long as it been there? Does Kyp know yet? Only one way to find out.  
  
“How-” Jaina begins, and stops. “Um. I need to go talk to Kyp. Don't tell anybody else, okay? Big secret.”  
  
Allana mimes zipping her lips shut. She hops off the sofa and goes off with Anji to do something else. Jaina sits there for several moments, suddenly dizzy.  
  
Then she’s on her feet and out the door, robes flying as she dashes down the corridor, reaching out for Kyp. She finds him talking with Kam Solusar and Corran Horn, not far from his office.   
  
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says breathlessly. “I need to steal Master Durron for a minute.”  
  
Without waiting for a reply, she grabs his hand and literally pulls him from the room.  
  
“Jay?” Kyp asks with a laugh. “What's the rush?”  
  
Jaina drags him into his office and locks the door. Pulling him over to the desk, she hops up to even the height difference a little. Then she catches his other hand and presses both of them to her lower belly.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Feel!” she says urgently.  
  
Kyp extends his senses through the Force. She can feel his energy brushing through her. The moment he finds it, the microscopic heartbeat deep inside her, she knows, because he jolts with surprise.  
  
His green eyes huge, he looks up from where their hands layer together, to her face. Jaina bites her lip.  
  
“You're-” Kyp stops, dumbfounded.  
  
“I'm pregnant,” she says.  
  
His handsome face splits in a huge grin. “Pregnant,” he repeats.  
  
Jaina nods, and she's suddenly grinning, too. And then she's crying. Kyp hugs her tightly, kissing the top of her head.  
  
“You'd better make an honest woman out of me,” she laughs through her tears, “or Dad is gonna kill you.”  
  
Kyp laughs, too, but distractedly. He's already reaching again for the tiny life she's carrying, and for her, marvelling at the feel of its heart.  
  
“Our baby,” he whispers.  
  
He slides his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head as he leans in to kiss her. Jaina loops her arms around his neck and kisses him back, her heart soaring. She only has joy for the new life inside her, no apprehension at all. They've faced certain death and the Dark Side. They can do this together.  
  
Kyp breaks the kiss, presses his forehead to hers. “We're already engaged, so I guess it's just a matter of when.”  
  
“Soon. I don't want a big wedding.” She tips her head up, brown eyes searching his face. “Unless you want one?”  
  
He shakes his head. “Not my style.”  
  
“Okay. Just you and me, then. Maybe Mom and Dad- No, you know what? Let's elope. Let's run away somewhere and just spend a couple weeks lying on a beach, you and me.”  
  
He grins. “I'm in.”  
  
“You'd better be,” she murmurs, then adds, “Daddy.”  
  
Kyp's grin is bright enough to light the inside of a black hole.


	40. Elope

They don't hide that they're going away for a few weeks. Jaina tells her uncle that she and Kyp are going to Naboo to research her grandmother, Padmé Amidala, and Sheev Palpatine, the man who became the first Emperor. Research is a good excuse; they're fighting the Sith, and looking into the history of one of the most powerful would be helpful.  
  
Not that either has much intention to do said research.  
  
Naboo isn't far from Tatooine, out on the edges of the Galactic Alliance. The Jedi have a general position of neutrality on GA politics since they withdrew to Shedu Maad. Jaina hopes they won't draw much attention here. Just in case, they leave their robes on the Rogue's Goddess, their lightsabers hidden in their luggage.  
  
Jaina's brought a dress she bought for some state function she never got to wear. Jag never even saw it, so she feels fine wearing it for this.  
  
They rent a small villa outside Theed, on the shore of a beautiful lake. It's spring here, and while it isn't exactly a beach, it's warm and sunny and secluded. There are two bedrooms, one with a huge fireplace and an equally massive bed, and Jaina claims it as theirs.  
  
As she drops her luggage by the bed, Kyp asks, “So, business or pleasure first?”  
  
She turns, seeing him framed in the doorway, and smiles. “Let's do what we _really_ came here to do.”  
  
“I agree.”  
  
Kyp closes the distance between them. He wraps an arm around her waist, reaching through the Force to check on their child.  
  
“Seems to be healthy,” he says. “Though I wish you'd consulted Cilghal before we left.”  
  
“I will when we get back. I want this between us for now.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Jaina changes into the dress she bought. It's a pale blue-green that drapes from her shoulders in the back and falls in a layered column to the floor. Abstract twists of embroidery and jewels circle the high waist and adorn the straps across her shoulders. She styles her hair simply, in a braid down her back, with a strand of gems across her forehead.  
  
She sits at the mirror in the bedroom, staring at her reflection. Her pregnancy has already softened the lines of her face a little, bringing back some of the lingering baby fat she'd had as a teenager. Until that moment, she's been unaware of just how much constant war has changed her, hardened her.  
  
Kyp's gone to hire an officiant, and she's alone at the villa. It gives her time to sort through the jumble of confused feelings that suddenly pop up. She has no hesitation at marrying Kyp. But the enormity of it still gets to her.  
  
She'd thought Jag was The One. She's spent most of her life in love with him, to varying degrees, and though they were technically only "together" for a handful of years, the impact he's had can't be ignored. From their first kiss to their last, seventeen years passed. The death of her first marriage is still a scar that's a little tender. She'd wanted to have a family with Jag, and the realisation that they couldn't continue had hit her hard. Part of her has felt like a failure for not being able to make it work.  
  
The contrast of the ease with which everything has happened with Kyp is not lost on her. It's part of what scared her so much the first time: loving Kyp Durron is easy. They fit like puzzle pieces, two halves of a whole, a picture incomplete without each other. Jag was her opposite, and she'd thought that would work; her parents had made it work, hadn't they? But Kyp... He's so much like her. Once the anger and fear after Anakin's death cleared, that boost out of the dark due in large part to the man himself, finding herself in sync with Kyp had been frighteningly easy.  
  
She twists her engagement ring around her finger. On Borleias, when she'd realised that Kyp was not oblivious to her relationship with Jag, that she'd stung him and he was retreating from her, had sent her into a panic. She'd gone to Jag, intending... She wasn't sure what she'd been intending, really. To tell him she'd made a mistake? To ask him to tell her she'd made the right decision? Jaina can't remember now, isn't sure she's ever known exactly what she was thinking. She'd confessed to him that Kyp had feelings for her, that Kyp knew about them and she'd hurt him, and that he was preparing to run.  
  
Jag had been pragmatic, she'd thought, saying they'd talk to him together, convince him to stay. She sees now that it was an excuse for him to mark her as his in front of the older man, manipulate Kyp into staying, make him feel guilty for his feelings, make him think he was being selfish for being hurt and uncertain. Jag was, if nothing else, a master manipulator. She can't look back on it without remembering the feeling of Kyp's hurt and confusion, though she hadn't been able to see his face in the near-total darkness.  
  
Jag hadn't wanted her to talk to Kyp on her own. When she'd posed the idea, when Kyp had expressed it, Jag had shot it down. He'd been afraid she'd change her mind, she knew that even then, and he'd been right. If she had allowed Kyp that then...  
  
Jaina shakes her head. Jag was right; she should have chosen Kyp from the beginning. She smiles wryly, placing the palm of her hand over her stomach. They're certainly making up for lost time, she thinks.  
  
She hopes Jag can forgive her someday, that he can find someone who loves him and is better for him than she was.   
  
There's a knock on the bedroom door. Kyp's returned from the city. She takes a breath to calm the flutter in her stomach. when she opens the door, she sees Kyp is dressed simply in a stylish tunic and black trousers, so handsome with his silver-streaked black hair arranged in dignified curls rather than the bedhead tangle she's used to. When he sees _her_ , his eyes go wide.  
  
“I think you're even more beautiful in that than your other dress,” he tells her.  
  
Jaina twirls so he can see the whole thing. “You've already seen me in white. I thought I'd go a little less traditional this time.”  
  
The man meets them outside on the broad patio overlooking the lake. He's brought an assistant to witness. Jaina can imagine no better setting, with just them and the beautiful spring lakeside, the flowers planted between the rail and the water's edge in full, glorious bloom.  
  
The ceremony is short but sweet. The officiant pronounces them husband and wife, and they sign a piece of flimsi.  
  
After the officiant and his assistant leave, Kyp pulls a small box out of his pocket. “This wasn't part of the ceremony. I hope you like this.”  
  
Inside is a silver ring, curved a little so it will sit better against her engagement ring. The thin line of gems across the top is a deep purple, like their lightsabers.  
  
Jaina snorts a laugh. “It's perfect. But I don't have one for you. I haven't had the chance.”  
  
He plucks the ring from the box and slides it on her finger. It nestles perfectly against the Gallinore gem he gave her just days before.  
  
“We’ll get one for me,” he says. “If you want, we can do that right now.”  
  
Jaina admires the ring for a moment, before she flattens her hands on his chest. “Later. Right now, I want to kiss my husband.”  
  
He smiles, lowering his head. “Your wish is my command,” he whispers. “Mrs. Durron.”


	41. Darkness

Jaina did well choosing Kyp's wedding band, he thinks. It's rectangular stones set in a dark metal, stones that seem dark grey until the light hits them. Then they glow with brilliant blues and greens and yellows in flashes, reminding him of lightsabers in the pitch of night.

It's a reminder to himself that even when things seem their blackest, there's light to be found. It's a good metaphor for himself.  
  
The library at Theed University is reluctant to give them any materials on Palpatine, made reticent because of his origins on Naboo. When the librarian learns they're Jedi, though, he relents and gives them access to the restricted archive.  
  
So here they sit, going through bound books of flimsi and parchment as well as datapads as loaded with files from the central computer. Kyp doesn't think he's seen so many actual books in his life.  
  
“This is so archaic,” he mutters, as he carefully turns a page. “Look how fragile this is.”  
  
Next to him, Jaina looks up from her datapad. “Yeah. What if it gets wet?  
  
“I think it has,” her husband says. “These pages are stuck together.”  
  
Kyp gives up on trying to pry them apart. He shuts the book and leans back in his chair. “How are you doing with copying those files?”  
  
“Almost done. Can you get scans of any of that?”  
  
“Already done, except for this one I can't open. I'm afraid I'll destroy it.” He flexes stiff and sore fingers, rubs the scar that runs across the back of his left hand. He's had it a good fifteen years; he got it the same day Luke was severely injured by a Yuuzhan Vong amphistaff. Bacta hadn't done much against the Vong poison and subsequent infection, but he hadn't lost his hand.  
  
Jaina reaches over, lays her hand over his. “I don't get it,” she says. “This Palpatine was one of the worst people in the galaxy, and yet, people loved him. They practically worshipped the guy ‘til he announced he was a Sith Lord. How does someone hide that much darkness for so long without it leaking out?”  
  
He turns his hand under hers, laces their fingers together. “I have no idea. All the Sith I've ever met, it just tainted everything around them, like a spreading oil stain. Even Ben’s girlfriend.”  
  
“Abeloth,” Jaina says, and they both shudder.  
  
“I don't know how Palpatine hid it so well,” Kyp continues. “But it still outed in the end. It always does. I want to find who his master was, how he fell. They may have been following the rule of two, but they had to start somewhere. Trace back far enough, we may be able to find Kesh, or that Mortis Monolith, or this Darth Krayt guy.”  
  
She nods distractedly and goes back to the stack of materials in front of her. So does he.  
  
After a while, he glances over at Jaina, engrossed in her reading. A lock of hair has slipped free from her ponytail, falling across her forehead, and he reaches over to tuck it behind her ear. She looks up and smiles, and his breath catches. Kyp still remembers the first time he looked at her and saw her as a woman, the gut-clenching realisation that he _wanted_ her. He still can't believe she's his wife now.  
  
Not just his wife. The mother of his child. It's become habit the last few days to touch the tiny life through the Force, to marvel in the little thrum of its heartbeat like the wings of a tiny bird he saw on Yavin once. They're having a baby. Everything's changing so quickly, and he's never been more terrified or excited in his life. Fifty-one years old, and he feels like he did the day he set foot on Coruscant for the first time. He's had no idea where life was going to take him, but the possibilities had been endless.  
  
“You think it's a boy or a girl?” he asks.  
  
“Too soon to tell,” she says. “I don't mind either way.”  
  
“Same here.”  
  
Kyp leans over, places his hand low on her belly. They're alone in the archive, no one near to see him do it. Jaina rests her hand on top of his, briefly going back to her skimming of the text before she gives up.  
  
Her stomach rumbles audibly. “Well, I think we're finished for today. I'm tired and the baby wants food.”  
  
He pulls her into his lap before she can fully stand. “You're my light,” he tells her. “Against the darkness.”  
  
Jaina runs her fingers through his hair. “And you're mine.”  
  
Kyp kisses her tenderly.  
  
Her stomach growls again, and she laughs.  
  
“Okay, I _really_ need something to eat. Let's go. I want food, some time in a deck chair, and to have my way with you at least twice. Not necessarily in that order.”  
  
“I think I can swing those things.”  
  
“Oh, you'd better.”


	42. Silence

The shudder of the ship’s reversion to real space wakes Jaina. She rises from the bed and leaves the cabin, making her way down the short corridor to the flight deck, where Kyp sits at the controls. Outside the viewport stretches a brilliant nebula, the gases bright and richly coloured. The ship’s sensors chime a warning that the area is highly radioactive, the gases “hot”.  
  
Her husband sits staring at it, in silence, face stony.  
  
“This isn't Shedu Maad,” she says. “It's pretty, though. I don't think I've ever seen this particular nebula. Where are we?”  
  
“Just off the Perlemian Route,” he replies after a moment. “It was the fastest hyperspace lane back. We need to refuel at the waystation ahead, but you'll need to handle it.”  
  
“Why? You do something to tick off the locals?”  
  
He looks down at the controls, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “You could say that. This is the Carida Nebula.”  
  
Jaina sits in the co-pilot’s seat with a thump, throat suddenly tight. “Oh.”  
  
Kyp guides the ship around the edge of the nebula with deft hands, his Force presence drawn in and his whole manner quiet. Jaina has never seen him like this, that she could recall.  
  
She can't say she’s surprised, though.  
  
When they're hailed by the station, Jaina identifies herself, making no mention of him. She arranges for the fuel and then closes the channel.  
  
“You wanna talk about it?” she asks softly.  
  
“Not at the moment.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
When they dock, Kyp hands her the controls and retreats to their cabin. Jaina has to go out to the station itself to handle payment. She leaves Kyp brooding on the ship, wishing she could help and knowing there's absolutely nothing she can do.  
  
“We don't get Jedi out here much,” the station master tells her, after hooking the hose up to the transport. He's an ugly little Ugnaught, shorter than her with a squished face and a surly attitude. He's the only one she's ever met to speak Basic, and that's done through a voice modulator embedded in his chest. “Guess you lot don't like being reminded of your failures, huh?”  
  
Jaina eyes him. “Does anyone?”  
  
“I guess that's true. Say, aren't you the Jaina Solo who was married to the Empire’s new head honcho?”  
  
“I was,” she admits. “I didn't like his politics.”  
  
“Guess that's one thing we can thank Durron for,” the Ugnaught says after a moment. “Took out a big chunk of the Remnant’s forces when he blew up this system, cleared the way for the Republic to get control of this whole sector. Still think the Huttslime got off too easy, though. Twenty-five million dead, and he's a free man.”  
  
 _Not as free as everyone thinks_ , she muses to herself.  
  
“Yeah, well, the woman who ordered the construction of the weapon that did it got to be Chief of State, so, you know, unfairness everywhere.” Jaina hands over the credits for the fuel. It takes everything she has not to push his nose the rest of the way into his skull... with her fist.  
  
She confines herself to using a trick Kyp taught her years ago, modifying the horrid Ugnaught’s memory--even if official records might show otherwise--to remove her visit and replace it with a vague recollection of being visited by “Zeth and Jan Fost”. An abuse of power? Definitely. Does she care? Not as much as she probably should. She's irritated and pregnant, and it saves his annoying little life.  
  
When the refuelling’s done, Jaina boards the ship and starts it up. She realises that her hands are shaking and flexes them, trying to let go of her anger. The Ugnaught doesn't know Kyp, hadn't seen the look on her husband's face earlier, hasn't held him in the night when he wakes from nightmares about being possessed, about killing his family.  
  
Too many share the Ugnaught's view. The "I was possessed" defense, if they're even aware, doesn't hold much water for a lot of the galaxy's citizens. You can't blame a ghost for something; you can convict the breathing. Kyp doesn't deserve to be called a monster. Not the sweet, funny, sharply intelligent man she's married.  
  
When they're away from the station, Kyp returns. He takes the co-pilot seat without a word.  
  
“You come out here often?” she asks, trying to keep her tone light.  
  
He stares out the viewport. “I try to visit once a year. I try to make the anniversary. Mostly for Zeth, but also… for the others.”  
  
She turns to look at him, searching his face. He’s still drawn in on himself, but what manages to escape makes her heart ache for him. Guilt, sadness, loneliness.  
  
“I did this,” he whispers. “I killed twenty-five million people, including my own brother. I can never make up for it, no matter how many I save.”  
  
She slows the ship to a stop, essentially parking it at the edge of the nebula. It’s too dangerous to actually go inside it, the supernova too recent, the gases too volatile. In the timeline of the cosmos, it happened virtually yesterday. And for Kyp, it probably feels like it did, even if over three decades have passed.  
  
Jaina moves from her seat and into his lap, wrapping her arms around him.  
  
“I know you,” she tells him softly. “And you are a good person. You did a horrible thing while under the control of a very bad person. But you would never have chosen to do this on your own, Kyp. That's not who you are. _I know you_. And I know a thing or two about having someone else in your head, making you do things. You are _not_ a bad person. I don't care what anyone else says. If they knew you like I do, they wouldn't think it, either.”  
  
Kyp hugs her tightly, burying his face in her hair. “I don't deserve you. I don't deserve anything that I have. By rights, they should have executed me for it.”  
  
She shakes her head, makes him look at her, palms gentle on his stubbled cheeks. “If they had, Kyp, I wouldn't be here. A lot of people wouldn't. Our baby wouldn't. I can only be grateful they granted you clemency. Even if I'd somehow survived without you, I don't know who I'd be.”  
  
Jaina leans her forehead against his. “I'm sorry about Zeth.”  
  
He heaves a sigh, but doesn't speak.  
  
She turns in his arms and for several minutes, neither of them say anything, just looking out at the remains of Carida, lost in their own thoughts. At least, she thinks, it's pretty. Alderaan’s an asteroid belt now.  
  
Finally, he says, “Thank you.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“Coming with me. I know I didn't give you a choice, but…”  
  
Jaina kisses him lovingly. “Thank you for bringing me.”  
  
She runs her fingers through his hair. “Let's go home now.”


	43. Vow

They tell no one on their return that they've married. Kyp wears their wedding bands on a chain around his neck, under his shirt. But during a family dinner, they tell her parents that Jaina is pregnant. Han is pleased beyond words. Leia is a little more reserved, Kyp being the baby's father tempering her joy a bit. Kyp doesn't mind, though. She'll get used to him, because he's not going anywhere.  
  
"So when are you two getting married?" Han asks. He and Leia have known for weeks that they're engaged; the ring Kyp gave her would have been a pretty big clue, even if they hadn't already been told.  
  
"As soon as I talk to Luke about it," Kyp says. He looks to Jaina and she beams, nodding, unable to speak because she's got food in her mouth.  
  
"Good," is all Han says.  
  
\-----  
  
Word quickly gets out that Jaina is pregnant, because hiding a life form from the Jedi is a little difficult, compounded with the sudden, severe bouts of morning sickness Jaina is afflicted with. When Master “Solo” misses a council meeting, Kyp approaches Luke to ask him a question. Jaina's uncle has some of his own.  
  
“How is Jaina?”  
  
“Miserable and somehow elated at the same time,” Kyp tells him. “Cilghal is working on a treatment for her nausea. She should be better soon.”  
  
Luke’s blue eyes study him. “Han told me he's a little unhappy you're having a baby before getting married. He said he and Leia had enough of that with Jacen and Tenel Ka.”  
  
The younger man snorts. “We're working on the marriage part. We're engaged, this just took us by surprise. Which is what I want to talk to you about. I know you're thinking about stepping down as Grand Master soon. Jaina and I would like you to marry us before you do.”  
  
Luke smiles. “Kam is leaving the Council first. And I'm not leaving anytime soon. But I would be honoured. When were you thinking?”  
  
“Soon. We don't want anything fancy. Jaina says she did that already. Something with just the Jedi, maybe next week?”  
  
Nodding, the Grand Master smiles. “Tell Leia your plan. We'll keep her reined in this time.”  
  
Kyp feels his eyelid twitch, and Luke bursts out laughing.  
  
\-----

 

True to Luke's word, Leia keeps things simple. The ceremony is held a week later, in the new Temple’s audience chamber. The only non-Jedi in attendance are Han, Zekk's wife Taryn, and Queen Mother Tenel Ka, who technically left the order shortly after Allana's birth.  
  
Han doesn't walk Jaina down the aisle for this one. The bride and groom, dressed in matching sandy brown robes, walk together to meet Luke. He hands them each half of a larger crystal, which Jaina remembers vaguely from Luke’s own wedding nearly thirty years before. _Has it really been that long?_ she wonders.  
  
Kyp gazes at her with love in his eyes as they make their vows for a second time. No one else knows that they're already married. This is the important one, anyway, the one Jaina wanted but couldn't have because she'd been marrying Jag.   
  
It hits her, as she holds the crystal, that this is the third time she's vowed "'til death do us part" with Kyp. The first was on Borleias, during that damned picnic. Funny how Jag had tried so hard to keep them apart, and here they are. She said it on Naboo, and she says it again now.  
  
They join the crystal halves together. Then they exchange rings, properly this time, and Luke pronounces them united.  
  
Kyp pulls her into his arms to kiss her, and Jaina feels as if she could fly.  
  
Later, she changes into the blue wedding dress for the after party. As Leia is styling her hair, her mother says, “I've never seen this dress before.”  
  
“I bought it while I was married to Jag. Just before we separated, actually.”  
  
“And you're wearing it for Kyp?” Leia is skeptical.  
  
“He's seen it. He likes it.”  
  
Her mother finishes with her hair. “And when did he see this dress?”  
  
Jaina chews on her lip for a moment, then says, “When we eloped on Naboo.”  
  
She meets Leia's eyes in the mirror. Leia sighs, rolling her eyes, and says, “I owe your father twenty credits.”  
  
“What?!”  
  
“When you suddenly rushed off to Naboo, with that poodoo excuse about research, your father bet me twenty credits you'd come back married. I said you'd never do that to your mother.” Leia gave her a look, but then smiled.  
  
“We wanted it to be just the two of us,” Jaina said. “A bigger thing later, but… When we learned about the baby, it just seemed like the thing to do.”  
  
Her mother sits down beside her on the bench. "We're not angry, if you're wondering. I'm not really surprised you two chose to elope. A big ceremony like you had with Jag isn't really you or Kyp."  
  
Jaina nods. "Kyp and I haven't really had much time to just... be me and him. So we took a few weeks off."  
  
"You should go have a proper honeymoon now," Leia says. "I'm sure you enjoyed Naboo, but you combined business with it. Go do something with just the two of you that doesn't involve Jedi anything."  
  
"That'll never happen," Jaina laughs. "There's not escaping that for us."  
  
"Try."  
  
"There is no try," she retorts with a grin.  
  
Jaina twists her wedding ring around her finger. "Kyp says Dad was annoyed about the baby."  
  
Leia shakes her head. "No. Not annoyed. Han's just protective. He had to know the two of you are intimate; you moved in together, after all. But with the baby, he had to confront the idea head-on. Fathers don't like that."  
  
"I was married to Jag."  
  
Her mother's smile is wry. "You should have seen his reaction, back when you were twenty and we vacationed with Jag, when you two were sharing a cabin. He was really not happy about that. Han just sometimes still sees you as a little girl. I'm not sure he's ready for you to have one of your own. Or boy."  
  
"I'm going to be thirty-seven, Mom, in just a couple months."  
  
"I know. It's also Kyp, you realise. I know I haven't been pleased with him in the past, but Han sees Kyp like a ... wayward younger brother. I think Han still sees Kyp as the kid he rescued from Kessel sometimes."  
  
Jaina rubs a hand over her stomach. "Kyp pretends that it drives him nuts when Dad calls him 'kid', but he secretly loves it."  
  
Leia reaches up, tucks a few strands that have come loose from Jaina's hair back in place. "I don't think I've actually said it, but I'm happy for you two. I didn't want you to marry Jag. I didn't like who you were with him. Kyp, on the other hand, brings out the best in you."  
  
"Well," Jaina says slowly, "there have been a few times we've brought out the homicidal in each other, but..."  
  
Leia arches a brow, and Jaina shakes her head. "Long story. Old stuff. Part of him bringing me back from the dark was dealing with my rages. He gave as good as he got. Let's just say there's never been a lack of passion between us, no matter the direction it goes, and leave it at that."  
  
Her mother gives an unladylike snort. "Come on. I'm sure our husbands are waiting for us."  
  
Jaina hugs her mother. "Thank you," she whispers. "I love you, Mom."  
  
Leia returns the embrace. "I love you, too, sweetheart."  
  
\-----  
  
When Jaina emerges finally, in her sea-coloured gown, Kyp can't help but stare. He's already seen her in it, but she still takes his breath away. She has since at least Hapes, when he saw her in the red dress. Before that, even. When she stepped down from her X-Wing, having tracked him to a nameless ball of ice in the Outer Rim, and took her helmet off, sweaty and rumpled from days in the cockpit, part of him fell for her then and there.  
  
Han grins and elbows him. "That look on your face is why I've always rooted for you, ya know," he says. "She deserves to be looked at like that."  
  
"I've always loved her," Kyp murmurs. "I just couldn't say it."  
  
His father-in-law smirks. "Shoulda said it years ago," he says. "Water. Bridge. Go say it now."  
  
Kyp smiles slowly, as Jaina comes closer. "I think I will," he agrees, and goes to his bride.


	44. Blankets

Jaina wakes in the predawn, feeling warm and cozy in the cocoon of blankets, her back to Kyp's chest. He sleeps with his face pressed to her shoulder, his hand low on her belly as if protecting the child she carries.  
  
She smiles, covering his hand with her own, absentmindedly toying with his wedding ring. She doesn't think she's ever felt as content as she does right then. She and the little life inside her, both safe in Kyp’s arms, their small family wrapped in blankets against the winter chill outside.  
  
He wakes slowly, nuzzling her neck with a small disgruntled noise that makes her grin.  
  
"Don't want to be awake, huh?" she asks in a laughing whisper.  
  
"No. I was having a good dream. We were on a beach, you were in a bikini..."  
  
Jaina snickers. "Not happening for a while, honey."  
  
Kyp splays his hand over the small bump. It's too soon to feel the baby move, but they know now that Allana was correct and they're having a girl. How _she_ knew is still a mystery.  
  
“I don't want to name her after anyone,” Jaina murmurs. “At least not for a first name. I mean, how do we possibly choose?”  
  
He absently, lightly drums his fingers on her belly, and Jaina grins at the answering flutter only she can feel. “I agree,” he says. “Something new. We'll think of something.”  
  
His lips brush against the nape of her neck, and Jaina's breath catches. Kyp hears it, makes an amused sound, and shifts to kiss just under her ear.  
  
"Kyp," she breathes.  
  
"All the years wasted," he mumbles against her jaw. "All the times I could have kissed you and didn't. I'm not going to let another get away from me."  
  
Jaina rolls over, catches his face in her hands. "Don't," she says fervently. "I won't, either. I love you so much, I can't stand it sometimes. I just feel like I'm going to burst."  
  
Kyp threads his fingers in the tangle of her hair. "I know. Force, I know."  
  
Then he kisses her, his mouth a slow but passionate pull on hers.  
  
Much later, Jaina lies on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The blankets are now twisted around them. She could easily stay like this forever, she thinks. Kyp's hands are warm on her back, fingers stroking her spine.  
  
"I've been thinking," she says.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Carida."  
  
His hand stills. "Why?"  
  
"Because it's never mattered to me. I've always known about it, but... It's always been kind of abstract. I wasn't even three yet." She raises her head, folds her hands on his chest and props her chin on them so she can look at him. "I don't remember you before it. I've always known the you that's existed since. But when we were _there_... It became more real. And still, I don't care. I understand you so much better since Anakin's death, since my time in the Nest."  
  
Kyp weaves his fingers into her hair. His dark green eyes are serious. "No one knows me like you do," he tells her softly. "I mean... I've told Luke and Han things, and they knew me in the days after, but I've never taken them to Carida."  
  
"I should never have taken you for granted like I did. When I was nineteen, I was so sure I knew everything. But I really knew nothing. I had no idea what it cost you to help me, to stay with me through that. I'm sorry."  
  
He shakes his head. "No. Don't. I'd do it all over again if I had to."  
  
It's her turn to ask. "Why?"  
  
"Because you needed me. I needed you."  
  
She sighs and turns her head, pressing her ear once more to his chest. The strong, steady thump of his heart is reassuring. Kyp strokes his fingers through her hair and she sighs again.  
  
"Most importantly," he says softly, after a while, "I love you. The only thing I'd do differently is that I'd chase Jag off."  
  
Jaina laughs. She shifts to curl against his side, using his shoulder as a pillow. "We need a name for the baby."  
  
"We have time. We'll think of one."  
  
She nods, closes her eyes. Kyp tightens his grip on her and she falls asleep, secure in the safety of his arms.


	45. Control

She isn't expecting him to step out of nowhere and seize her. One moment she's walking in the early spring garden, the next Jag is suddenly _there_ , fingers tight on her arm. Jaina is too shocked by his abrupt appearance to fight back. Why is he here? How did he get here?  
  
“Hello, Master _Durron_ ,” he says coldly.  
  
She tries to pull her hand from his grip, but it's like iron around her wrist. It isn't painful, just unyielding. She can't fight him in her condition, regrets leaving her lightsaber in her bedroom. Hates that she has the thought about a man she once adored. “Let me go, Jag. Please.”  
  
“It's Emperor Fel now,” he reminds her, and it unfreezes her. She doesn't need her lightsaber. She's a Jedi Master.  
  
Jaina takes a breath, pulling on the Force-  
  
“I don't care if you're the living avatar of the Force. Unhand my wife before I _unhand_ you.”  
  
 _That_ makes Jag let go. He whirls on Kyp, face hard and angry, mouth curled in a snarl. But he falters at the expression on Kyp's own features. Jaina steps around him and goes to her husband. It hurts to see Jag this way, but even if he were to renounce his empire this very moment, she could not go back. Would not go back even if it were an option.  
  
She rubs her wrist. “I'm fine,” she tells Kyp. “I know you'd dearly love to punch his face in. He's not worth it.”  
  
Jag's pale green gaze sweeps over her, taking in her hand on Kyp's arm, the swell of her stomach. “I thought you'd get him out of your system and come back to me,” he says. “Then I heard you married him, and I had to see for myself. I didn't expect…”  
  
He looks at her wrist. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”  
  
“You didn't mean a lot of things,” she reminds him quietly.  
  
Kyp steps between them. He hasn't reached for his lightsaber, but he doesn't need it. They all know that if necessary, Jag would be dead before he hit the ground and Kyp wouldn't even need to move.  
  
Jag is apparently truly realising this for the first time. How he managed to escape the knowledge all these years mystifies Jaina. He straightens, but doesn't take the step back he so clearly wants. “I was hoping to speak to Jaina alone.”  
  
“I'm his wife, Jag. Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of him. I'd just tell him anyway.”  
  
“You always did,” he sneers.  
  
“Not everything. I didn't tell him about how you assaulted me on the _Ralroost_. I didn't tell him about how you said I had no concept of honour and then begged me to take you back. I didn't tell him about how you manipulated me into keeping secrets that got a Jedi apprentice _killed_ by telling me I would be a bad fiancée for warning the Masters. Not when those things _happened_ , anyway.”  
  
Jaina is amazed that, angry as she is, her voice doesn't shake in listing just a few of his sins. She crosses her arms above her stomach. “I gave you years of my life. I don't need to give you any more of my time. Get off this planet now, or never leave it.”  
  
She feels a thrum of amusement from Kyp, but his face is still set in anger.  
  
Jag looks between them. Very quietly, he asks, “Did you ever love me, or was I just the less scary option?”  
  
The answer is “both”, but she says, “I loved you. But you didn't love me. You loved the _idea_ of me. The Jaina Solo you thought you were with never existed, Jag. All your attempts to make me fit her killed our marriage.”  
  
He clenches black-gloved hands, then clasps them behind his back, his posture ramrod straight. “And I suppose Kyp here loves the real you? Knows the real you?”  
  
“Hard not to when we're in each other's heads,” Kyp tells him. “But yes. Which is why I backed off. I respected her to make her own choices.”  
  
“I see. Of course, you couldn't wait to swoop in and make your move as soon as I was gone.”  
  
“ _I_ made the move,” Jaina tells him. “Kyp would have waited until we were both old and grey. He doesn't try to live my life for me and never has. Jag, you never even let me order my own food when we went out to eat! I had to trick you on our honeymoon into looking for something important because you _whined_ about helping the Jedi. You only stopped when I promised you sex. Not because it was something I was interested in and would help _our family_ , but because you'd get personal gratification out of it. And you just decided, without consulting me, that we were going to move to Bastion. I didn't have a voice. So I gave myself one. I left.”  
  
He looks stricken, as if just now realising how tightly he'd tried to hold her. “I…”  
  
Kyp isn't bothered by the relative intimacy of the argument. She's already told him everything by now. Through their bond, she can tell he's proud of her.  
  
“I'm not blameless,” she admits. “I let you because I was afraid to be alone and you were familiar. I let you think things that were wrong, and I lied about my feelings for someone else. And I'm sorry for that. But we were toxic, Jag. The first time we were together, we couldn't stay together more than six months without a huge blow out, and that was when we barely even saw each other. We were engaged six weeks when I had to call it off. Are you _really_ surprised we only lasted eighteen months after we got engaged the second time? Thirteen months of marriage was a kriffing all-time record for us.”  
  
Kyp thinks, _Our last real argument involved lightsabers when you were nineteen._  
  
She sends back, _Hush, you._  
  
Oblivious to their mental conversation, Jag says, “I had no idea you were so unhappy with me.”  
  
“For a large part, I wasn't,” Jaina tells him quietly. “But I couldn't keep doing it. I left for _me_ , not for Kyp. Kyp came after.”  
  
Her ex-husband nods. “Which you told me before. I didn't want to believe it. I still love you.”  
  
“Part of me will always love you. Kyp knows that. But I can't be with you. I can't be what you need.”  
  
“I understand that now. I'll… Take my leave. You don't need to fear repercussions, Jaina. I'm not that petty.”  
  
As he turns, Jaina says, “Wait.”  
  
Jag stops, his back to her. “Yes?”  
  
“How is Tahiri? Is she still there with you?”  
  
“The Emperor’s Hand is just fine. She's here with me. I'll tell her you asked about her, see if she'll come speak with you.”  
  
He strides off, and this time she lets him go.  
  
Kyp takes her hand. Her wrist is a little red, but not bruised. “How many times are you going to have to explain to him why you divorced him?”  
  
“I think it finally got through.” She leans into him. “I'm sorry you had to hear all that.”  
  
“Jaina, you were married to him. I know that I'm not the first man to have your heart. You have a right to your feelings, whatever they might be. I may not _like_ all of them, but they're still yours.” He wraps a lock of her hair around his finger. “I just hate that you keep having to explain yourself to him. First when you broke up, then when Tahiri went to tattle on us, and now.”  
  
“He's never learned quite as fast as you. Neither did Zekk.”  
  
"I've always been a fast learner."  
  
He pulls her close, and she leans into him. She wishes fervently that the confrontation hadn't happened, hadn't shattered what she'd been hoping would be an idyllic afternoon with Kyp.  
  
Her husband kisses the top of her head. "Don't," he says softly, and she realises she's been projecting her distress. "Don't let him win, Goddess."  
  
She huffs in annoyance. "I'm not. I'm just irritated and ... The weather is finally warm enough we can be outside again and I'm not stuck inside, and _this_ happens."  
  
He guides her to what she's come to think of as "their" bench. "Sit. Enjoy the sun."  
  
Jaina looks at the red mark on her wrist. "Yelling at him felt better than it should have. And it brought back so many bad things. I know he didn't *mean* to do them, but..."  
  
"I know." He wraps his arm around her shoulders, resting his chin on the top of her head as she leans into him. "Maybe this will be a wakeup call for him. Maybe not. But you don't have to worry about him anymore."  
  
He splays his hand over the bump of their child. The baby kicks and wiggles, strong enough now for him to feel it. Kyp grins. "She's a strong one, like her mother."  
  
Jaina places her hand over his, stroking her fingers over the scar on the back. "So, I have a short list of names."  
  
"Let's hear them."


	46. Moment

Jaina is back in their apartment, as Kyp's been called to speak to Luke about something, when the door chime sounds. Reaching out, she senses Tahiri on the other side.

It's been a long time since she's seen her friend. She's still a touch irritated that Tahiri took off for the Unknown Regions without attempting to speak to Jaina about anything.

She opens the door and lets the blonde woman in. Tahiri's dressed in an Imperial uniform, her usually bare feet clad in shiny black knee boots. Her blonde curls are the only unrestrained thing about her, tumbling over her shoulders with abandon.

Silently, Jaina gestures to the sofa.

As they sit, Tahiri says, "So the rumours are true. You and Kyp really are married and..."

Jaina places a hand protectively over her belly. "Yes. It happened a bit suddenly, but we're happy."

"Jag isn't."

"I know. But that's not my fault."

Tahiri says, "I guess not. But he loves you."

"In a way, he does," Jaina tells her quietly, "but not the way I need."

"And _Kyp Durron_  does?" Tahiri demands incredulously. "I thought you guys were acting funny, but when I realised you were _sleeping_  with him..."

"I actually hadn't been," Jaina snapped. "It was so nice of you to make rash judgements and run off to tattle to my _ex_  about my new relationship. If it was any of his business, I would have let him know myself!"

Tahiri's green eyes go wide. Jaina has never, in the years they've been friends, yelled at her before.

They're both quiet for several minutes. Tahiri fidgets; she's never been good at sitting still, and it gets worse when she's agitated. Finally, she says, "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought..."

"That I left Jag for Kyp?"

"... Yeah. Kinda."

"No. I tried to make it work, but when I realised he was slowly making me give up everything that I am, I had to end it." Jaina sighs. "I'm tired of having to defend my choices."

"Maybe you should stop making bad ones, then."

Jaina narrows her eyes at Tahiri. "Jag was a bad choice. Kyp is not. Kyp..."

"Adores you," Tahiri says softly. "Everyone knows that.

"Yeah."

"Are you happy?"

She nods. "More than I've ever been."

"Okay," Tahiri sighs. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. Just... Stay out of my relationships in the future."

"Will do." The younger woman stretches her legs out before her.

Jaina says, "You're wearing shoes."

"Star Destroyer floors are cold," Tahiri says. "I keep trying to get Jag to install heated floors, but he just gives me that look. I'm sure you know it."

"The 'That's a ridiculous waste of resources and you're an idiot for suggesting it' one?" Jaina asks dryly.

"That's it exactly. It's just easier to put the boots on."

They lapse back into silence. Jaina leans back, feeling for the baby's kicks. But her daughter seems to be napping at the moment.

Tahiri chews on her lip. "Hey, uh... I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Since you're clearly not getting back together with Jag, how do you feel about him dating?"

Jaina lifts a brow. "He's welcome to do whatever he wishes. Why?"

"Just... wondering."

Something in the way Tahiri avoids her gaze clicks in Jaina's brain, and she sits up as much as she's able. The idea is absurd, and yet...

"You love him," she says.

Tahiri is aghast. "What? No!"

"You do," Jaina insists. "You're in love with Jag."

"I-" The blonde stops, looks stricken. "No. I- I love Anakin."

Jaina reaches over, places her hand on Tahiri's arm. "Tahiri. Anakin's been gone almost twenty years. You need to let him go. For your sake."

It's clear that she's tempted to pull away, but Tahiri stays where she is. She finally looks up at Jaina. "You wouldn't be mad?"

Sighing, Jaina shakes her head. "I want Jag to be happy. I want *you* to be happy. It's weird, but if it works, go for it. Just... Go into things knowing that he's an utter control freak and grew up learning twisted mind games from both the Chiss and the Imperials."

"Nothing is more twisted than the Yuuzhan Vong," Tahiri tells her wryly.

"He's critical," Jaina continues. "You screw up even slightly, he lets you know."

Tahiri nods. "I'm his Hand. I'm aware."

"No, I mean..."

Haltingly, Jaina tells her of the breakdown of her first marriage. She keeps some things back, such as Jag's assault on the Ralroost when she was twenty. Tahiri listens in silence, face solemn. Somehow, it's harder to tell Tahiri than it was to tell Kyp.

When she finishes, Tahiri shrugs. "Sounds mild compared to Caedus, but duly noted. I'm sorry you went through that."

"I'm sorry that Jacen-" Jaina stops.

"Yeah. No need. You weren't responsible for him, and as much as I hate to say it, you did everyone a favour. _I'm_  sorry that I helped him."

They both smile weakly.

Tahiri looks to Jaina's stomach. "So what are you having?"

"A girl."

"Do you have a name picked?"

Jaina shakes her head. "Not yet. We have a short list, but nothing definite."

"I'm happy for you. On all counts."

"Thanks."

Then Tahiri stands. "Tell your parents I said hello. And Kyp, I guess."

"I will."

Jaina moves to get up, but Tahiri motions her to stay.

"Stay put. I'll see myself out."

Jaina watches her leave, wondering if it's the last time she'll see her friend. She hopes not. Hopes, too, that Tahiri can find peace. Maybe with Jag, maybe not.

Kyp enters not long after Tahiri's exit. He drops onto the sofa beside his wife. "So. How'd the visit go?"

"Good, overall. Kinda awkward." Jaina reaches for his hand. "She's in love with Jag."

Her husband blinks rapidly for several moments, mouth hanging open. "... What?"

"I don't know how he feels, but Tahiri loves him."

"Uh."

"Yeah."

"She knows he's a steaming pile of poodoo, right?"

She shrugs. "I told her. She said he can't be worse than Caedus."

Kyp shudders. Privately, Jaina agrees. But the choice isn't up to her.

"I think I picked a name off the short list," she tells him.

"Yeah? Which one?"

"Kyrie."

He beams. "That was my favourite, too."

"We think alike so much, it's scary."

He splays his hand over her stomach. As if sensing him there, the baby wakes and kicks.

"Hi, Kyrie," he says. "Mommy and I can't wait to meet you."

Jaina shifts to lean against him, and for a little, despite arguments with exes and awkwardness with old friends, all is right in the world.


	47. Gentle

Jaina is no longer graceful, Kyp observes as they leave the medical ward. She moves slowly, gait ungainly as she waddles. She's eight months pregnant and though he'd never say it aloud--he's not suicidal, after all--she looks like a ball with legs.

After a moment of watching her walk, he sweeps her up in his arms. Even so very pregnant, she doesn't weigh enough to be a burden.

“I can walk!” she protests.

“Cilghal said bed rest,” Kyp reminds her. “This will get you there faster. I'm worried you'll take so long, you'll finish this pregnancy before we get to our quarters.”

She frowns and half-heartedly thumps his shoulder. But the way she relaxes against him, looping an arm around his neck, tells him the protest is entirely for show. He knows how tired she is, true rest being difficult with only a few sleep positions available and the baby kicking. Their daughter's kicked a few times hard enough to wake _him_ ; he can't imagine how battered Jaina is inside with that going on.

Back in their quarters, Kyp carries Jaina into the bedroom and sets her on the bed. He pulls her shoes off and helps her get under the covers. She leans back against the pillows and sighs.

“Two months of this,” she mutters. “I'm going to lose my mind.”

“Don't worry, I'll be here to keep you company, when I'm not otherwise occupied.”

“... I'll lose my mind even faster.”

He sticks his tongue out at her and she grins wearily.

“Lie with me?” she asks plaintively.

“Of course.”

Kyp slides into bed behind her, wrapping an arm around her expansive middle. He presses a kiss to her hair. “Just a few more weeks and Kyrie will be here.”

Jaina wiggles until she's comfortable and heaves a sigh. “I'm so tired of being pregnant.”

“I know. But we'll have a baby soon. And then you'll just be tired.” He grins and Jaina turns her head to stick her tongue out at him.

She catches his hand, holds it in her own. “Part of me is still trying to adjust to the idea we're even together, let alone married and about to be parents. You know?”

“Yeah. It's all happened so fast. But it's a good fast, if that makes sense.”

“Mm. Yeah. We've been best friends for so long, we just moved right into family.” She huffs a laugh. “A little more time with just you and me and all the sex we want would have been nice, but this happened with me on birth control, so I guess Kyrie is meant to be here now.”

"I don't view that as a problem at all. I'm excited. There was a time I wasn't sure I'd get to be a father, so this is... Beyond good." He doesn't say that it was only a year or so ago that he had basically resigned himself to being alone forever.

"Since you're so thrilled, you get diaper duty."

He laughs and kisses her shoulder. "Okay, I'll agree to that."

"Really?"

"You'll be feeding her. I should be prepared to handle something. I'm her father."

That's a heady thing to say. He's going to be a father in just a few weeks. He can't put into words how that makes him feel.

And at the moment, he doesn't have to, because Jaina has fallen asleep. He sighs, brushes a kiss against her hair, and does the same.


	48. Happiness

As Jaina sleeps soundly beside him, Kyp lies awake, one hand resting on the swell of her stomach. He doesn't know how she can sleep through their daughter’s kicks and squirming. Her stomach shifts as Kyrie stretches. It looks uncomfortable to him.

Through the Force, Kyp reaches out, brushing against Kyrie’s presence. She stills, a bright spot of what he'd call joy as she recognises him.

_Hi, little one._

She doesn't know words yet, not properly, but Kyrie can tell him apart from Jaina, from Leia and Allana and the others who have made themselves known. To her, he is emotions of safety, love, and happiness, because that's what Jaina feels for him. Jaina is the same, but slightly different. Jaina is always present, Kyp is a frequent and welcome visitor.

He smiles, running his hand over Jaina's belly. They have just a few weeks left, if that, until he gets to hold his daughter and meet her properly.

Kyrie reaches out faintly, touching her mind against his and Jaina's, and his wife wakes. Her hand moves to cover his, and she murmurs sleepily, “Hi, baby.”

Kyp kisses her shoulder and laces his fingers through hers. “Go back to sleep, Goddess,” he whispers.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Jaina rolls over, snuggling against him, and is soon deeply asleep once more. Kyp lifts a lock of hair out of her face, studying her features in the faint light through the window.

He knows just how lucky he is to have her, is still amazed that she would want him, for all those years of wanting and dreaming. He doesn't deserve her, or the life they're building together. He knows this and is grateful for every moment they have together.

Kyp used to think he knew what happiness was. It wasn't something he had a lot of, but he was content enough. This, though, this feeling he has holding Jaina, watching her stomach shift as Kyrie stretches, knowing that soon he'll be able to hold his daughter, this is nothing like he's ever expected to feel.

The prospect of fatherhood is scary and exhilarating at the same time. He knows Jaina feels the same; she just doesn't show it because she's physically exhausted most of the time.

He drums his fingers on Jaina's stomach, and Kyrie kicks in response. Kyp grins.

 _Soon_ , he thinks.

Meeting Kyrie can't come fast enough for him.


	49. Tears

Kyp's never been completely sure when his actual lifeday is. He was young enough when his parents died that he knows the general time of year, but doesn't know the exact day. When he got out of Kessel, he picked a day that was "close enough". No one argued or questioned it, so it's been the observed day for nearly forty years. For his fifty-first lifeday, he and Jaina had marked the occasion with a small, private dinner, since they'd still been hiding their relationship at the time. This year, Han throws a proper party, as Kyp is his son-in-law now.

Three days after Kyp's fifty-second lifeday, Jaina goes into labour. It's a hard seventeen hours, with Jaina barking obscenities at her husband during the worst parts, but at the end of it, a squalling, red-faced and wrinkly Kyrie Durron emerges. Jaina bursts into tears and apologises profusely to Kyp as they hold the baby. Grinning broadly, Kyp points out it's not the first time she's called him names and probably won't be the last.

As Jaina rests, Kyp sits by her bed in the medical ward, Kyrie in his arms. Her little head is covered with dark fuzz, and she holds his finger tightly in sleep.

Han comes in and pulls up a chair. “I remember when Jaina was that little,” he says. “One of the best days of my life. You think you're prepared for it, but when you get to hold your baby… There's nothing like it.”

Kyp shakes his head. When he looks up at his father-in-law, his eyes are shiny with unshed tears. “No,” he says thickly. “There isn't.”

Han holds out his hands. “You mind if I hold her?”

The new father carefully passes the infant over. As he watches Han settle Kyrie against his chest, he says, “I never thanked you.”

“For what?”

“Being there for me that night.”

Han frowns a little in confusion, then realises what night Kyp is referring to: the night of Jaina's wedding to Jag, when Kyp got completely smashed in an effort to drown his sorrow. “Oh. No need to thank me, kid. Even if it took Jaina a long time to see it, you've always been family. Family looks out for each other.”

Propping his chin on his hand, elbow on the arm of the chair, Kyp watches Han rock his newborn granddaughter. “Still. That was the lowest I've been since… Since Carida, and both times, you've been there for me. I really appreciate it, Han. You've been family when I had no one else.”

“You're stuck with us now,” the older man says gruffly.

“I'm not going anywhere,” Kyp assures him.

Han nods. He smooths a few bits of hair on Kyrie’s head that stick up. Kyp isn't going to tell him it's useless, that his daughter has inherited his curls. “You know, when I realised you were in love with Jaina, back on Borleias, I knew I didn't need to worry about her as much. Because I had been. I saw what was happening to her and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it. We'd just lost our boys, and I was terrified something would happen to Jaina, until I saw the way you looked at her. I knew you'd never let her get hurt. You brought her back to us.”

He looks up at Kyp. “I know she picked that idiot over you. She even told me you'd, ah, expressed interest in her. Never could understand why she chose Jag, myself. I wanted you for my son-in-law. It's hard, being a father. You gotta let your kids make their own mistakes. I just hoped she'd see the light one day. I been watching you two dance around each other for years. When I figured out you'd finally got together, all I could think was that it was about damn time. I didn't even mind when you eloped.”

Kyp grins sheepishly. “Yes, I absconded with your daughter.”

Han snorts. “Shoulda done it years ago, if you ask me. But I'm kinda glad you've always put her first, even if it hurt you. A father needs to know someone loves his little girl as much as he does.”

The younger man nods. He looks at Kyrie, blissfully sleeping in her grandfather’s arms, and knows what Han means. He would do _anything_  for his little girl, and her mother, and hopes that someday, Kyrie will find someone who loves her just as much. She's so special, she deserves nothing less.

They sit in silence for a while longer, until Han rises and hands Kyrie back to her father. "I'll go, let you guys get some rest," he murmurs, and takes his leave.

Kyp cuddles Kyrie close, studying the tiny lashes fanned on her little cheeks. One of the happy tears he's been holding back splashes on her cheek, and he gently wipes it away.

Jaina stirs, waking with a small groan. She sees him holding the baby and offers a wan smile. "Hey. How is she?"

"She's perfect. How are you?"

"Exhausted. Sore in places I didn't know I had."

He reaches over and strokes her hair. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart. You earned it."

Jaina nods, closing her eyes. "Wanna hold her."

"You did. And you will. Rest now. I've got you both."


	50. Eternal

They're outside, taking a walk with the baby for the first time. Kyp holds Kyrie close, telling her about everything around them even though the infant is asleep and wouldn't understand anyway. Jaina thinks it's the cutest thing she's ever seen. Of course, she's probably biased.

A cargo freighter banks low overhead, turning to approach the landing field on the other side of the base. Jaina watches it idly.

"And over here is the garden where Mommy and Daddy have had lots of conversations," he's saying now. "I was going to ask Mommy to marry me here, but she got to it first."

Jaina grins. Kyp has been nothing but a very devoted father since Kyrie's birth, even handling diaper duty with a relatively cheerful nature. No one relishes diaper duty, but he hasn't complained once. And their daughter is definitely a daddy's girl. Jaina can calm her well enough, but Kyp's presence alone is enough to soothe the baby.

His commlink goes off, interrupting her musing and his tour guide monologue. Holding Kyrie to his chest with one hand, he retrieves it off his belt. "Durron."

"Master Durron, this is Jedi Dorvald. There's someone here, came in on the supply ship. They say they're looking for Master Durron."

"Which one?" Kyp asks.

"I don't know. I commed you because I figure Jaina is busy."

Kyp glances her way and raises a brow. Jaina shrugs. She isn't expecting anyone. "We'll be right there."

They cut through the main building, since fences and outbuildings make the long way around _very_  long. Kyp still has the baby, absentmindedly patting her tiny back as they walk.

"Who do you think it is?" Jaina asks.

"I honestly have no idea," he confesses.

They reach the landing field, where visitor ships come and go. The Jedi ships are in one of two hangars to either side: to the right are the X-Wings, to the left are the shuttles and personal craft of the various Jedi. In the middle, on the duracrete surface of the landing field, sits the cargo shuttle.

Kyp suddenly stops, eyes going wide, and hands Jaina the baby. Through their bond, he's projecting shock and a hesitant joy he's trying to suppress. She turns, sees Seha Dorvald standing by the cargo ship, red braid trailing down her back, talking to a tall, thin being with yellow and green mottled skin, a bulbous head, and narrow eyes. A Khommite, Jaina thinks, though she hasn't seen one in years, and suddenly she understands.

Her husband practically runs over to the newcomer, Jaina following a little more slowly so she doesn't jostle the baby. As she reaches them, she hears Kyp say, "You're from Khomm."

"I am," the being says. The voice is the same as her vague memories. "Are you Kyp Durron?"

"Yes," he says fervently. "What generation are you? 83? 84?"

"85," the Khommite says. His eyes search Kyp's face. "I am Dorsk 85. Unfortunately, Dorsk 84 perished not long after his cloning."

Jaina looks to Kyp. He practically vibrates, he's so happy. It's sad to hear of Dorsk 84's death, but all the same, this is a very big deal to her husband.

"And you're here . . ." Kyp trails off.

Dorsk 85 bobs his head. "I am told I show Force-sensitivity. I have heard tales of Dorsk 81 and 82 and their bravery, and I would like to follow in their footsteps. I was told to find you. I went to Coruscant first, but they directed me to Hapes. The Queen Mother told me to come here on this supply ship. Am I . . . welcome here?"

Kyp grins broadly. "Oh, yes. Dorsks 81 and 82 were two of my best friends. You are very, very welcome here, Dorsk 85."

He holds out his hand, and after a moment, the alien shakes it. Jaina hides her smile by kissing the top of Kyrie's fuzzy head.

The two males turn and go into the building. Jaina lingers by Seha for a moment, to give them some space.

"Who is that?" the younger Jedi asks.

"Oh Khomm, they reproduce by cloning," Jaina tells her. "When Kyp was at the academy, he was friends with Dorsk 81, who died. Dorsk 82 came to learn, and he was Kyp's best friend until he died, too, during the war against the Yuuzhan Vong. Kyp also knew Dorsk 83. Dorsk 85 is . . . well, technically, he's Dorsk 82's great-grandson."

"Wow." Seha doesn't seem to know what else to say, so she goes back to checking the manifest lists for the cargo shipment.

Jaina heads back into the building. To Kyrie, she says, "Some things don't end when we die. The Force, Kyrie, is a very powerful thing. It binds us all, and it keeps love going, even after death. And that, my darling girl, makes all we endure worth it."

Kyrie blinks dark eyes for a moment, then falls back asleep. Jaina brushes her lips over the wispy hairs on her daughter's head, and goes to find her husband.


End file.
